The Enterprise Shuttlebay
by Enterprise1701-d
Summary: A collection of oneshots, drabbles, ideas, unfinished fics, and miscellaneous randomness.
1. Shuttlebay

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlebay**

00000 Introduction to the Enterprise Shuttlecraft 00000

More and more authors put up 'ideas' files, placeholders for drabbles, ideas, oneshots, and other collective silliness that, in most cases, will never make it to fully-fledged stories. As a fanfiction author, I'm nt above using a good idea for myself (otherwise I'd be writing original fics, rather than fanfics), so I decided to use this format as well.

The Enterprise Shuttlebay will be filled with small and not-so-small shuttles, some of which will be as small as a few scenes, and some as large or larger than some one-shots I've written.

However, all of them will have one thing in common – the scene breaks will be often, and the time jumps will be very noticeable. As these are ideas, I will only write out the scenes for which I have ideas, and none of the usual connecting scenes that will tie everything together into a coherent story.

The format I have chosen to use will give the prospective reader an overview of what to expect. For instance, Shuttle One has the following characteristics:

Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: The Hollows, Naruto, Avatar: the last airbender, Animorphs, D Gray-man.

Timeframe: Harry Potter, age 6

Last updated: 22 August 09

It gives an overview of what the main universe is (in this case, Harry Potter. There is one Naruto story at the time of writing, this may increase in the future. The crossovers are listed by the name of the series, so that readers who wish to know more about the characters can research them quite easily. The timeframe gives an approximate indication of where the first scene takes place. In this case, the reference is Harry Potter at age six. Some are totally AU, going from age one or before that. The last update reference is a counter. When I write more of a particular shuttle, I will swap out the old one with the new one, keeping the number of individual chapter down.

If you're not scared off by now, feel free to enter the Enterprise Shuttlebay, and enjoy your stay!

_Enterprise1701_d_


	2. Shuttle 1 Harry's unusual friends

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft one: Harry Potter's Unusual Friends**

-

Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: The Hollows, Naruto, Avatar: the last airbender, Animorphs, D Gray-man.

Timeframe: Harry Potter, age 6

Last updated: 22 August 09

-

Six-year-old Harry Potter cringed as he hid in a small corner of the playground, watching his cousin Dudley, as well as his usual posse of friends, approach. He knew what was going to happen, and fervently, he wished that he were somewhere else.

By the time the first blow landed, his wish only grew in intensity, and a feverish knot of _something_ lodged itself in the pit of his stomach. Throwing his arms up to protect himself, knowing that he was alone and that no-one was coming to help him, the tiny six-year-old's fear latched onto his wish.

The sensation in his stomach suddenly burst wide open, and a shiver of that same _something_ slithered all over his body, and Harry peeked from under his arms, to find himself in a very different place. He didn't know _where_ it was, but it seemed to be very different from where he used to be.

Lowering his protective arms, wincing at the pain of the freshly-forming bruises, he looked around in curiosity. It seemed that his wish had been granted, and he was someplace else – even if this someplace else was something he had never even seen or heard about.

Cold slithered over the skin exposed by his over-sized second-hand clothes, the wind that was blowing in this place feeling strange and alien against his body.

Something seemed to _displace_ behind him, and Harry spun around to look at what had disturbed the alien surroundings.

_It_ seemed to be something resembling a vague human form, halfway between an adolescent boy and strong-faced woman, long and bony feet naked on the underground of this strange place Harry had found himself in.

"Well, well, well," _it_ declared. "What have we here? A human – wizard-born, no less... on the wrong side of the ley lines." it cackled insanely for a few moments, twisting and turning around the boy. "Who are you, wizard-child?" it finally asked, settling eerily intense eyes upon him.

"H-Harry Potter," Harry whispered. He didn't exactly feel afraid, so far the weird thing had looked at him as hard as he had looked at it, and it had laughed. True, it had said some nutty things, but it had laughed. And laughter was good, right? Dudley and his gang never laughed like this before they were going to hit him. This laughter was totally different.

"Harry Potter," the thing said, nodding. "What do you want, Harry Potter?" it asked.

He looked back at that penetrating stare. It seemed to gaze at his soul, not exactly menacing, more strange and unusual. What did he want? He wanted the Dursleys to treat him better. He wanted Dudley and his gang to stop hitting him. He wanted good food and a decent bedroom. He wanted so much.

The thing cocked its head, and stared at him as the various emotions flashed through his expression. Harry sighed. "I don't know what I want," he finally said.

That seemed to stop the thing before him. He didn't even know if it were male or female, or even _what_ it was. "What is your wish, Harry Potter?" it offered again. "Do you want to go home?"

He shook his head. The creature seemed to smile widely. "Any other wish I can fulfill?"

Harry blinked. There was one thing he wanted more than anything in the world. "Will you be my friend?"

"You can have anything you wish, and you wish to be my friend?" it asked, taken aback.

Harry nodded. "I have never had a friend," Harry said. "I would really like to be your friend."

The creature blinked. "I have never had a human child ask for friendship of a demon," it replied, then looked at him. "Very well, Harry Potter. We will be friends."

Harry smiled widely, then sobered. "C-can I have your name?" he asked, timidly.

The creature frowned. "I gave you my name."

Harry frowned in thought, then timidly shook his head. "I didn't?" it asked, frowned. "I forgot again. My name is Newt."

The six-year-old nodded. "Thank you, sir," he said, taking a stab at the sex of his new friend.

The demon frowned. "I am female," she replied. "And you may call me Newt. That's what I gave you my name."

Harry winced, expecting to be hit. "Sorry," he squeaked. The demon looked confused, not sensing fear of her from him, rather fear of something else.

"Why do you flinch, Harry Potter?"

Harry lowered his arms. "I-I thought you were going to hit me," he admitted. "Everybody always hits me," he admitted.

The demon glowered. "There has not been a new demon born in over five thousand years," Newt growled. "To mistreat a child..." her voice trailed off as she stared in confusion. "I don't really remember what happened," she said. "I forgot again. I have forgotten so much." She shook her head, looked at Harry. "Are you hurt?"

Sheepishly, he shrugged, then nodded once.

"Show me," she ordered, and Harry couldn't help but obey the command.

As more of his oversized clothes hit the metaphysical ground of the ever-after, Newt's outrage seemed to grow. "It is no wonder you do not wish to go home." She started whispering in latin, and a deep-black sheet of ever-after energy settled over his body. Harry sighed immediately, as the bruises and other wounds started to vanish almost immediately.

Even before the wounds were completely gone, he started getting drowsy. "I feel so sleepy," he muttered.

"You are safe here," Newt declared with absolute conviction. The next latin words were totally different from the first ones, the the sheet of energy vanished, to leave him clad in a golden-colored robe that covered his entire body, and was clasped shut in front with solid golden clasps. The garment was embroidered with runes and sigils Harry had never seen before in a solid black thread. It felt so comfortable, and a wide smile appeared on his face.

Newt spoke more words, and Harry suddenly found himself in an obviously different place in the ever-after, where Newt conjured him a bed. "Rest," she told him.

He slipped under the covers, feeling the soft mattress conform to his body. He grabbed her bony hand. "Will you stay with me?"

Newt looked at the small boy's hand, grasping her own without a sign of fear or hesitation, actually looking at her for protection. Instincts the female demon had never actually used before rose to the surface, and she sat down next to the child. "I will be here, Harry Potter. Sleep now. You need rest."

He nodded. "Thank you, Newt."

The demon nodded, didn't really know what to say. She had forgotten so much. And was unstable, she knew that herself. And she knew that the others were probably looking for her again. She needed to get away from here.

It had been so long since she went from one dimension to another. If she could only remember how it went, she could take Harry Potter with her. Keep him safe.

Somewhere, she found the memory of a distant universe, where people threw naked elements at each other. That one had always been fun. Perhaps she could take the boy there? Teach him some of the martial arts present in that location?

She looked at the sleeping child. If only she could remember the invocations.

00000 5 years later 00000

Anko cheerfully replaced the storage scroll she had just used to seal half a bookstore worth of books, and shot a devilish grin at the old Headmaster. Dumbledore just as cheerfully ignored the sealing. It got tedious after the first five times, and he was now quite content to ignore the physical and magical impossibility of not just shrinking items, but storing them in a flat piece of rolled-up paper.

"Thanks, Anko," Harry said, grinning at the 14-year-old ninja. He looked at the Headmaster. "What's next?"

"We have everything except for your wand," Dumbledore replied, motioning them to a shop marked as 'Ollivander's'. Harry shrugged, and looked at the various girls and women accompanying him. None of them seemed to object, and the elderly Headmaster proceeded them, doing his best to ignore the weirding-out of his creepo-meter.

There was something _off_ about Harry Potter.

First, he had to drag the boy across the ley lines, apparently he had been hiding in the ever-after for the last five years. Then, he finds the boy surrounded by some of the most weird – and most deadly – females he had ever come across. His creepo-meter had really gone ballistic when it had dawned on him that he couldn't get a single decent reading on either of them.

When he finally managed to get the boy to agree to come to Hogwarts, it was only after extracting the promise that his friends could come with him. That actually was easier to arrange than most people realized and Dumbledore had cheerfully agreed to the demand.

When they arrived at Diagon Alley to do the shopping, the boy had ignored the bank. Somehow, a vault full of gold didn't appeal to the boy.

It was only five minutes later that Dumbledore realized why – he had no need of it. One of the most dangerous of the females surrounding Harry, Newt, had drawn gold bullion straight out of thin air, and it had floored Dumbledore.

After buying potions ingredients, a cauldron, and some other necessities, the next problem popped up. Ignoring the sealing done by the one called Anko, Dumbledore couldn't ignore the fact that Harry Potter objected strenuously to the robes and uniforms as provided by madam Malkin.

Once more, it was Newt that had done the impossible, and summoned clothing out of thin air with a mere whispered word. The black fabric was softer and stronger than the best acrumentula silk that Dumbledore had ever seen, and the stitching was obviously done in pure gold thread. It looked close enough to the Hogwarts uniform, and Dumbledore's creepo-meter had been ignored yet again when the old Headmaster just let things happen.

After buying half a bookstore worth of books, and seeing them sealed in a thin piece of paper with a single storage seal scribbled on it, he was cheerfully ignoring any and all oddities that happened around Harry Potter, and preceded them to Ollivander's wand shop.

Harry curiously tried the wands the old wandmaker shoved in his hands, while the other females looked from curious to disgusted.

"I do not understand," Ollivander muttered, continuing to have Harry try different wands of all kinds and types. "None of these are working. I don't understand." Finally, after what seemed like forever, Harry struck up a conversation with the girls around him, continuing to try the different wands, yet bored out of his skull at the same time. The game started getting boring after the first one hundred wands.

"What'd you think so far, Newt?" Harry asked his oldest friend.

The female demon, irritated at having to come out of the ever-after during daylight, and thus being forced into possessing someone in order to do so, scoffed. "If it weren't for the fact that none of us can teach you this wand-magic, I'd kill each and every one of these annoying pests," she declared, shooting a glare at Dumbledore.

"I agree with Newt," Azula declared, the former princess to the Fire Country speaking for the first time since long. "This place is _dull_."

Dumbledore ignored the slight against wizarding society, although he had to say he felt rather disappointed that the impression he had hoped for didn't happen.

"Totally dull," Road said, shrugging. "The only bright spot was when Anko started sealing stuff. The look on the old goat's face was priceless."

The old goat in question wanted to interject that he was right there, but refrained from doing so when all the girls looked at him, as if daring him to say something.

_It was rather interesting – for about ten minutes,_ a voice in his head muttered. Edriss 562, former Visser One of the Yeerk Empire, added her two knuts.

Finally, one of the wands sparked a little. "That seems to be the closest wand for you, Mr Potter," old Ollivander declared, sounding somewhat disappointed. "Holly, Eleven inches, Phoenix Feather Core."

Newt eyed the stick of wood distastefully. "_That_ is the best you have to offer?" she demanded angrily. Her eyes shifted from the human-like to her demonic state, displaying the blackened eyes with red-slitted goats-like pupils usually indicated something good was about to happen, and Harry developed a grin on his face. She slapped her hands, and started muttering latin, shaping the ever-after energy with a style and panache Harry _still_ found impressive, even after seeing her do it for five years.

Ten seconds later, a black stick was in her hands, seemingly drawing light into itself. The only exception were the silver-gray runic shapes across the base of the wand.

"Twelve inches, Deadwood with Demon Blood core," she declared, handing it to Harry.

As he took it with his right hand, the holly wand in his left hand let out a keening wail, followed by a puff of smoke coming out of the tip. At the same time, the deadwood wand burst to life, blowing a hole the size of a small truck in the roof of the shop.

"Cool!" Harry declared, eyeing the wand, handing Ollivander the holly wand back. "I'll keep this one. Thanks, Newt!"

The demon nodded once. "As I thought, this was a waste of time. There is nothing here that I can not make, and make better. Come, Harry. Let's head back home." She looked angrily at the Headmaster. "Next time you waste our time, I'll hand you over to the most sadistic demon I know."

Dumbledore, his creepo-meter now officially in 'meltdown' mode, just stared dumbly, and nodded at the ancient demoness. "We will return, September first, to be on the train," she added, and looked at Road. The girl, thousands of years old, yet looking only twelve, nodded, and made a motion.

In the middle of Ollivander's ruined shop, an elaborate double door appeared. Pushing the doors open, Road motioned for the others to step through. After they did some, she stepped through herself, and closed the doors. The passage vanished into the floor.

"What have you let into Hogwarts now, Albus?" old Mr Ollivander asked, staring at the Headmaster.

"I wish I knew," Dumbledore replied. "I wish I knew."

00000 The Train 00000

The crowd at platform 9 ¾ split apart, creating a large circular clearing out of their own accord, aware that something wasn't quite right at that particular spot. Five seconds later, Harry Potter appeared, surrounded by his friends. He was dressed smartly, in his usual demon-wrought golden robes with black runes. The others were dressed in equally impressive garb, and all of them had their faces schooled in a cold indifference.

Harry glanced at the curious crowd, then glanced at the train, and inclined his head to the others, who nodded, and escorted him through the throngs of people.

He was the first to climb onboard, the others right behind him. He merely stepped into one of the first empty compartments he came across.

_Good first impression,_ Edriss commented. _Not only your mode of transport, but also the cold indifference and casual dismissal of their presence. Well acted, Harry._

_Thanks, E,_ Harry thought back to his resident symbiont. He valued her input on human behavior and psychology above all the others, her experience studying humans coming in quite handy for him.

A redheaded boy pushed the door open, threw a look inside, and saw Harry, surrounded by obviously dangerous females. "Sorry," he muttered, and closed the door.

_See?_ Edriss asked Harry. _It's paying off already._

Harry grinned. "E was right. These humans are sheeple."

Azula nodded. "They wouldn't have lasted a week back home."

"A day," Anko agreed.

"Not worth playing with," Road said, sadly. "I so wanted to have someone to play with."

"Hey! Am I chopped liver or something?" Harry asked.

"You _know_ what kinds of games I want to play, Harry," Road protested. "I don't think Newt would appreciate me playing those sorts of games with you."

Newt shrugged. "I'd like you to invite Harry when you _do_ play. He needs some toughening up."

Harry looked at his oldest friend. "I thought I was pretty tough?"

Newt glanced at him. "You have power. You have some skills we taught you. You have never taken a human life, nor even seriously hurt anyone. You need to become accustomed to the intoxicating scent of blood, the exciting rush of pain-filled scream, to thrive on causing pain. Only then will you become truly strong."

Harry blinked. "Well, if they deserve it, I don't see why not."

Grins passed from one female to another. This was going to be an interesting year.

The door opened again. "I heard Harry Potter was in here," the blond who stood in the doorway said.

Harry lazily lifted a hand. "That would be me."

"I'm Draco Malfoy," the boy said, extending a hand. "I wanted to help you. Explain to you which families are good to know, and such."

_That could be valuable information, Harry,_ Edriss counseled. _But, this has been said as if it's some kind of mafia. _

Harry lifted an eyebrow at the proffered hand. _E? Advice?_

_We want to play hardball?_

_Yep,_ Harry replied.

_Say this..._

Harry scoffed loudly. "I do not shake hands with those beneath me. If you want to greet me, get on your knees, and bow. The deeper the better."

The boy's pale skin actually got a reddish tint, about as much blush as he could muster, Harry thought. "You'll regret this, Potter."

Harry lifted a hand, and snapped out a Latin word.

Deep inside his subconscious, the Latin word triggered the mnemonic device, replicating the dozens of hand signs and Latin incantations usually required to work the ley line spell. At the same time, the spindle in his mind siphoned a fraction of ever-after energy into the mnemonic trigger.

Draco and the two boys standing behind him were summarily ejected from the room. Anko kicked the door shut from where she sat. "Nice spell," she told him.

"Thanks," Harry said, grinning impishly. "I've been waiting to try that out." He glanced at Newt. "There are some more... permanent... curses I've been eager to try out, too."

"Not without a familiar to take the blame for the curse, Harry," Newt said. "But I agree with Anko. You worked that spell very well. You've integrated it really well."

Harry smiled, and remained silent for the rest of the voyage.

00000 The Sorting 00000

_I've seen some unusual stuff since I teamed up with you, but GHOSTS?_ Edriss asked as the entire group followed Professor McGonagall and the other first-years into the Great Hall.

Harry shrugged. _After Newt and her demon magic, Road's Dimensional abilities, Azula and her elemental martial arts, and Anko's freakish jutsus, it's the _ghosts_ that get to you?_

Harry was treated to the most unusual sensation of a Yeerk Symbiont shrugging mentally. _Ghosts freak me out._

He remained silent. There wasn't much he could say to _that_. They stopped in the Great Hall, and Harry glanced up at the enchanted ceiling.

He caught Newt's eye, and glanced back up to the ceiling. The demon followed his gaze, looked at the ceiling, and caught Harry's look. A grin appeared on her face.

"I like that smirk on your face," Anko whispered, leaning close to Harry as the stern-looking Professor started the Sorting.

Harry's grin widened when Newt whispered something under her breath, and the tell-tale sensation of her tapping a ley line filtered into his mind and body.

The Sorting came to an abrupt halt when the Enchanted Ceiling suddenly became... differently enchanted.

In fact, it was now attuned to the first non-magical TV station Newt's magic had come across, and was proudly displaying _The Simpsons_.

The muggleborn students loved it, especially as Newt's enchantment added sound to the picture.

It seems that the Professors were lacking in a sense of humor, for they didn't.

It took almost half an hour before the Headmaster declared the Enchanted Ceiling a lost cause, and the Sorting was to continue.

Harry caught Newt's eye. The demon grinned, and looked up.

Muggleborn students boo-ed when _The Simpsons_ was replaced with a re-run of the original _Star Trek_ show.

Strangely, the Sorting didn't interrupt this time. In fact, if Harry didn't know any better, he'd bet on the fact that the Professors were just plain ignoring the giant television set that had replaced their Enchanted Ceiling.

Pouting for all of two seconds, Harry shrugged in Newt's direction, and grinned truly evilly. If they wanted to play hardball...

Newt's smile was demonic.

It took only thirty seconds before the Headmaster put a Reducto through the Enchanted Ceiling, cutting off the hardcore porn movie that had succeeded in scarring dozens of first, second, and some third years students. Harry was still chuckling when his name was called, and he put on the Sorting Hat.

The moment the Hat touched his head, a curious tingling sensation went through his mind, almost as if Road were trying to read his mind. Immediately, he could feel Edriss' blazing presence interject her own mind in between the unknown assailant and Harry's mind.

Harry could follow everything she was 'transmitting' in his stead, and was thoroughly enjoying the showing of Edriss' most favorable moments as a Human Controller. The unknown presence chuckled as well.

The shocked, and somewhat traumatized, students and faculty, were treated to the rare sight of the Sorting Hat breaking out in a grin, and actually _snort_.

_Very well,_ it said. _As I can not read you, I can not sort you. But, that was so darn funny I'm not going to complain... much. Any particular House you want to go to?_

Harry 'looked' at Edriss. The Yeerk sent back one of those peculiar shrugs. _What's on offer?_ Harry asked.

The Sorting Hat's presence seemed to sigh slightly. _Another one who hasn't read _Hogwarts, A History.

_Hey, that book is _boring! _I fell asleep after five pages!_ Harry complained.

_Yes, that author should be shot for being dry and dull,_ the Sorting Hat replied. _Anyway, this is the lay of the land..._

About ten minutes later, Harry rubbed his chin. _Interesting. I think I will take... Huffepuff._

_I can honestly say I did not expect that choice. Why Hufflepuff, if I can ask?_

Harry grinned as he stood up. _Always keep 'em guessing,_ he replied as he lifted the Hat from his head and started to put it down on the stool. A dry and raspy chuckle escaped from the ancient Sorting Hat, followed by a scream.

HUFFLEPUFF!

Harry walked to the applauding table. _Harry, sit down at the head of the table._

Harry blinked. _E, there's no seat at the head of the table._

_Are you, or are you not, friends with the most powerful demon out there?_ Edriss' voice was slightly humorous, and Harry had to do his best to suppress the smile that threatened to bloom on his features as he walked the length of the table. The clapping and cheering of the table had fallen silent when it was clear he had no intention to sit down in one of the clear spaces. Harry slowed his pace, and dropped next to Newt.

"Can you create me a seat at the end of the table?" he asked. "And space for yourselves, too."

_Someone has been reading his history books, _Edriss complimented upon Harry's suggestion.

Newt dipped her head, her ancient eyes glistening in humor. She tapped a line and snapped her fingers.

The head of the Hufflepuff table started growing, evolving a T-like junction at its end, chairs popping into existence out of their own accord as Newt move the necessary spells. Harry started walking again as the hush of the Great Hall deepened into an oppressive silence.

Harry sat down in the largest seat, the one in the center of the newly-grown flat end at the head of the Hufflepuff table. Newt sat to his right, Azula to his left, Road taking the seat on the right end, next to Newt, and Anko taking the last available seat, on the other side of Azula.

Harry felt vaguely uncomfortable when everyone continued to stare at him. Azula leaned to his left, and whispered in his ear. He looked at her with a small frown, as if asking if she were serious. She nodded.

Shrugging, the eleven-year-old stood up, and looked out over the Great Hall. "As I am sure we are all hungry, I will not be making any speeches." He waved in McGonagall's direction, and spoke, "You may continue."

he sat down, and leaned close to Azula, and whispered something.

The Princess of the Fire Country nodded, and shot him a grin.

The Great Hall was filled with voices immediately afterward, and Harry grinned slightly at the reaction his shorts words had caused. He looked down the length of the Hufflepuff table, and saw that he had annoyed the Professor as well.

The Sorting was not interrupted again, and soon, food filled the tables. Harry sampled a bit of everything, but still asked Edriss to help remind him to send whoever was cooking this stuff on a cooking course. It was all fat and no flavors, most of these dishes the ultimate representative of why one should not use Great Britain as a pinnacle of Haute Cuisine.

But still, he managed to fill his belly with merely sampling the dishes for something palatable.

"So, now that I'm at school," Harry said after setting his utensils down. "Will you teach me how to take a Familiar? So I can do the more permanent Ley Line charms, and twist curses and such?"

"I might," Newt replied. Harry looked hopefully at her, then frowned slightly.

"Newt, you have that look that tells me that I'd better be very careful on how I word my requests," he declared. "Last time, you tricked me."

"You need to be careful when dealing with demons," Newt replied. "Just because I happen to like you does not necessarily mean that the others will, too."

"U-huh," Harry said doubtfully. "The first demon that hurts me will answer to you. They're all scared to living death of you. Tell me again why I should be afraid?"

"Because some day you may run across a demon that does not know me. And the fact that I will kill that demon in a very painful and drawn out way does not bring you back should you find yourself killed."

Harry was silent, and finally nodded. "Good point," he muttered. "So... will you teach me to take a Familiar?"

Newt shook her head. "No."

Harry 's face fell.

"However, I have arranged for something... else." At this, Harry looked up hopefully. "As a present for starting your schooling, I have... made arrangements." Those on the Hufflepuff table closest to them had stopped talking when Harry started talking about curses and such. The silence spread as Newt continued to speak.

"Harry, you will summon someone," she finished.

Harry's face contorted slightly. "Someone?" he asked.

She nodded. "You know who I want you to summon."

Harry's face broke into a wide grin. "Sure! I can summon him!" He closed his eyes, and reached for a line.

"Don't forget to set a circle," Newt instructed.

"But he hates..." Harry broke off, and grinned wider. "Alright, Newt."

"Plus, it's always best to do the basics, not just because it will annoy him," Newt said, leaning back and crossing her arms, ready to enjoy the show. Silence had by now reached as far as the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables.

Harry stood up, and looked around. "I'll need more room, though."

"Before the Head Table?" Road suggested. Harry shrugged.

"Looks good enough," he said. "Now all I need is half a kilo worth of salt." To his surprise, an unopened packet of salt appeared in front of him on the table. He shrugged, took the packet, walked to the clear space in front of the Head Table, ignoring the hushed whispers of the students, or the incredulous looks from the teachers.

Opening the packet, he started humming to himself as he drew a perfect circle on the ground with it. Finishing, he put the rest of the salt on the table near him, and tapped the line. At once, the force settled in his chi, the back pressure equalizing between his extremities and the force of the line itself.

He was now part of the line, letting the energy flow through him and back to line, minus whatever he chose to draw from it. He had done this hundreds, if not thousands of times before, and by now it took less than the time in between two beats of his heart.

A whispered word shoved the entire circle of salt into the ever-after, a bright golden dome appearing in the middle of the Great Hall. Harry knew that the circle was continuing down as well, creating a perfect sphere.

He nodded. It looked sturdy enough. Aware that the Headmaster was about to say something, he glanced down the length of the table, and nodded to Newt, before closing his eyes, and whispering his invocation. Straight latin poured from his lips with the casual ease of someone who spoke it as often, if not more, than his native tongue.

His finished " -_algaliarept_!"

He had to wait close to five seconds before a voice cracked out through the extremities of the Great Hall. "What scares you, Harry James Potter? What terrifies you most in the long cold of the night?" The voice changed, becoming female, before a rather pretty woman with bright red curls appeared in the center of the circle.

"Weird Aunty Rachel hasn't scared me in a long time, Algaliarept," Harry spoke. "Please do not insult me."

The woman paced back and forth two paces within the confines of the circle. "You know how much I detest circles, Harry James Potter."

"Newt claimed I need the practice, Algaliarept," Harry spoke, calmly. "I have summoned you for the purpose of the deal she has struck with you. Do you promise not to harm me or my friends should I release you?"

The redheaded woman changed into the shape of a gentleman wearing a green suit. "I promise not to harm you or your friends, until you banish me back to the ever after, Harry James Potter," he spoke with an upper-class Oxford accent.

Harry dipped his head. "Then we have a deal, Algaliarept." He reached out with one foot, and broke the circle. At once the protective golden-colored sphere fell away. Harry's grin returned, and widened. He jumped forward, and grasped the figure in a hug. "It's good to see you again, Uncle Reppy."

"I wish you'd stop doing that, Harry James Potter," the demon protested slightly, as if by rote. "Especially when there are so many people present. I have to think of my reputation."

"And I wish you'd stop trying to use Weird Aunty Rachel's form to try and scare me, but we can't all have what we wish for, can we?" Harry said, grinning slightly as he released the demon.

"So, Harry James Potter," Algaliarept said, "I am here for a deal struck between myself and Newt." he motioned with his right hand. "On the subject of a Familiar."

Next to Algaliarept appeared a strikingly beautiful woman, fair hair reaching down to her shoulders, aristocratic features schooled in an emotionless look. Her frame was covered in bright gold and silk robes, her feet clad in the most beautiful golden slippers.

"Ceri," Harry said, his voice hitching slightly.

"Yes, Harry James Potter," Algaliarept stated. "I see that you still appreciate the beauty and grace of my familiar."

Harry stuck out his tongue at the demon, causing him to raise an eyebrow, before Harry walked forward, and hugged the woman. "It's good to see you again, Ceri."

"And you, Harry," the demon's Familiar whispered. Harry frowned slightly, and looked at her. He then sighed.

"Uncle Reppy, you hurt her again," he accused.

"She did not listen fast enough," he replied. "Even so, she is still a very good Familiar. After a thousand years, she'd better be."

"Anyway," Algaliarept went on, "Newt insisted you needed a Familiar. A good one. I have someone else upon which I have an eye, and I believe that you will appreciate this. Ceri, dear, have you prepared the potions and the spells?"

Ceri produced the copper spell vat from somewhere, and Harry could see it filled with the results of Ceri's work. He then blinked.

"You're giving me Ceri?" he asked, stunned.

"As it was Newt who wanted it, I made her a fair price," Algaliarept said. "So it is not exactly _giving_."

Harry shook his head. "At least you won't be able to hurt her again, Uncle Reppy," he finally said, regaining his wits.

"That will be _your_ task, Harry James Potter," Algaliarept replied with a nasty chuckle. "She is a headstrong one. I'd advise you to break her often, or she will spout off her sassy mouth. But she does make an excellent bed-warmer."

Harry blinked. "Bed-warmer, Uncle Reppy?"

The demon grinned. "Between men, Harry," he said, leaning closer, "When you're a little older you'll appreciate this piece of advice. She's a hellion in bed. You'll like her."

Harry frowned. "I still don't understand, Uncle Reppy." he motioned for the Hufflepuff table's end. "That's Newt's job."

Algaliarept blinked, twice, before looking at Newt, who showed no reaction one way or the other, but the hushed whispering in the Great Hall showed that just about everybody else _did_ have an opinion. "And you're still alive?" he asked, in total surprise. "The last demon who shared Newt's bed fried after she pulled an entire line through him!"

Harry shrugged. "You don't scare me, Uncle Reppy. Besides, Newt's very soft. She makes me feel safe."

The demon shook his head. "You're a brave man, Harry James Potter. Far braver than I am."

Harry shook his head, and shrugged. "So... how does this work?"

Newt walked up, and leaned against the end of the Hufflepuff table, crossing her arms across her chest, watching the proceedings as Algaliarept first went through the procedure to break the connection with Ceri, then walked Harry through binding her to him. The Hall was silent, while the Headmaster drew paler and paler, but remained silent after the first warning look from Newt had molten the golden goblet right in front of him.

"She's yours now, Harry James Potter," Algaliarept spoke. "I would say enjoy, but with your present mindset, I don't think that will be the case."

Harry looked at Ceri. "I'm never going to hurt her, Uncle Reppy. I don't care what you say."

The demon shrugged. He let his gaze travel through the Great Hall. "You promised you would not hurt me or my friends," Harry declared.

"And I won't, Harry James Potter," the demon answered. "However, I do not think that... that asian girl over there, for instance, is a friend of yours;"

"That's ENOUGH!" Dumbledore's voice boomed. "This has gone far enough! Begone from here, demon!"

Algaliarept looked at the Headmaster, and finally started to grin. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," he spoke. "It seems you are enjoying my work."

The Headmaster paled dramatically, and fell back into his chair. "That was you?" he asked, his voice thin and frail all of a sudden.

Algaliarept smirked. "Yes, that was I." His hand went up, pointing at Ceri. "She twisted that curse, and I invoked it. And you have never repaid me for it."

Dumbledore blanched further.

"Albus? What is he talking about?" McGonagall asked.

When the Headmaster didn't answer, Algaliarept turned to the woman. "It seems you took credit for someone else's work, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. You have been a naughty boy."

The Headmaster grunted. "That victory should have been mine," he finally declared.

"You struck a deal," Algaliarept said. "I was the one who struck down Grindelwald, and it was not you. In return, you took my mark." The Headmaster grunted, refusing to touch the sole of his foot. "I wish to call in that mark."

"What do you want, demon?" Dumbledore demanded.

Algaliarept smirked widely. "It seems that Newt's charge will be... educated... at your school, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. In return for removing your demon mark, you will leave Harry James Potter alone. You, your staff, and anyone under your direct or indirect control will ensure that he will have an untroubled and hassle-free education. That means that you will not involve him with any Philosopher's Stones, Chambers of Secrets, escaped convicts from certain prisons, Triwizard Tournaments, insane teachers, torture devices, and anything else you have planned. If and when he graduates, with not a single involvement from you or those under your influence, I will remove that mark from you. Do we have a deal, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore?"

"How do you...?" Dumbledore started to ask.

"Information is my business, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. And I know more than you will ever guess. I will use this information against you should something happen to Harry James Potter. Now, do we have a deal, or do we not? I am in need of a Familiar for a few days, I am sure your demon mark can be redeemed for a few days or weeks of service instead."

The man grew even paler. "We have a deal, demon."

Algaliarept shook his head. "You know the invocations, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. After all, you used them to get rid of your nemesis."

"We have a deal, Algaliarept. I, or those directly or indirectly under my influence, will ensure that Harry James Potter has an untroubled and hassle-free education, and when he graduates, you will remove my demon marker."

Algaliarept nodded. "We have a deal," he said, and turned to Harry, grinning widely. "Enjoy the freedom, Harry James Potter."

Harry grinned as wide as Algaliarept. "The way you phrased it, I don't think they can punish me. For anything."

"You will make a fine demon apprentice some day," Algaliarept said. "I believe that concludes my business here."

Harry nodded, hugged the demon, then stepped back. "See you again, Uncle Reppy," he spoke, then drew a breath. "Algaliarept, our business is concluded. Please return to the ever-after immediately."

"Until we meet again, Harry James Potter," the demon said, vanishing.

Harry looked at Ceri. "Have you had dinner yet?"

The woman nodded once, and Harry sighed with a sad look in his eyes. "Uncle Reppy really hurt you, didn't he?" he asked gently, yet received no answer. Not that he expected one. He shook his head.

"Alright, let's retire."

"_Mister_ Potter," the Headmaster hissed suddenly.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Yes, headmaster?"

"Do you have any idea of what you have just done?" he demanded.

"Of course," Harry replied, on a tone that was halfway between condescending and angry. "I have been summoning Uncle Reppy since I was seven. I know him." He glanced at Ceri. "Even if he is a bastard."

"Mister Potter!" McGonagall butted in. "Language!"

Harry shrugged. "Literally, Professor. I'm sure that Uncle Reppy's parents weren't married. I'm sure marriage didn't exist ten thousand years ago." That left the woman speechless as he turned his attention back to Dumbledore. "So, yes, Headmaster, I am well aware of who I just summoned."

"You let a demon loose in the Great Hall!" Dumbledore thundered.

"I extracted a promise first, Headmaster," as if talking to a child. "Really, as if I would let Uncle Reppy loose without binding him to good behavior first."

"You made it promise not to harm you or your friends!"

Harry nodded. "Yep. Good promise, isn't it?"

"And what about the other students!?"

Harry looked around the Great hall, as if seeing the scared-out-of-their-minds students for the first time. He shrugged in apology. "Cannon-fodder?" he suggested.

00000 Hufflepuff Common Room 00000

Harry smiled slightly at the welcoming atmosphere in the Hufflepuff Common Room, the yellow banners draping from the wooden ceiling, and the stuffy yet comfortable-looking armchairs dotted throughout the space. Looking around, he spotted one corner that seemed to be less used that then others, and looked at Newt.

The demon materialized a solid staff twice her size, and walked to the corner. Her staff barely touched the armchairs, yet they were almost sent flying as they skidded along the floor, clearing the space for what Harry had in mind.

Tapping a line, Newt incanted the spell they had developed, and had used so many times that it had become firmly ingrained in her subconscious. The floor before her warped and buckled, as if becoming fluid and forming a deep hole, right before it started to fill with a strange gray liquid.

Harry nodded. Although Edriss had fed before coming here, he wanted to get everything over with, and the sooner his new housemates became used to this, the sooner he wouldn't have to answer questions. Holding his hand up to his left ear, he waited for the familiar sensation in his mind to quit.

Within half a minute, he was holding a slug-like creature in his hand, Edriss the symbiont having disconnected from him and crawled out through his ear. He placed the slug-like Yeerk gently in the Yeerk Pool Newt's spell just created.

"Thanks, Newt."

The demon shrugged, and charmed a large sun on the ceiling, before vanishing her clothes, revealing a rather skimpy bikini, and slipped into a reclining chair that hadn't been there five minutes earlier. Harry shook his head as Road, Azula, and Anko did the same. Grinning, he sat down in his own reclining chair, not even bothering to comment when Newt replaced his clothing with a skimpy speedo.

He lifted an eyebrow in Newt's direction. The demoness looked back, not understanding. Harry glanced in Ceri's direction, his Familiar still standing, behind his shoulder. Newt frowned slightly, as if asking as if he were serious. Harry nodded, and Newt sighed, creating a chair.

"Ceri," Harry said, drawing his Familiar's attention. He was well aware that, after a thousand years, Ceri didn't hear anything unless you spoke her name first. It was something he was planning on changing as soon as possible. "Have a seat."

Ceri blinked, nodded once, then sat down with a grace and poise that revealed that she had not always been a mere humble Familiar. "Do you have a bathing suit?" Harry asked, while he still had her attention.

The beautiful woman shook her head, a small, tight frowned appearing and disappearing on her features with remarkable speed. "Can you create one, or do I ask Newt to create one for you?"

For the first time, emotion flashed on her face, as if an animalistic fear had lodged itself firmly in her mind and heart, and her entire body seemed to freeze on the spot. Harry frowned. "Ceri? Are you alright?"

She was trembling now. "Ceri?" No answer. He turned to Newt. "Newt? What's wrong with her?"

The demon shrugged. "She was my familiar for a decade. Algaliarept lost her to me after a bet went wrong. I guess I hurt her pretty badly – even if I don't remember all the details."

Harry grunted, and turned back to Ceri. "Ceri, I'm not going to let her hurt you. _I_ am not going to hurt you. In fact, if anybody hurts you, I want to know about it, so I can take appropriate measures." He took her hand. "Ceri? Do you hear me? I'm not going to let you get hurt."

He continued to speak to her, gently, soothingly. The woman slowly relaxed. "You want to create a suit for yourself?" Harry finally asked his original question. Nodding, she focused, and did as he asked. He smiled slightly when she finally relaxed into the chair.

He let out his breath when he leaned back himself. _That went well,_ he thought to himself, halfway expecting an answer from Edriss before he realized she was still in the Yeerk Pool.

Across the Common Room, the other Hufflepuff students had congregated, talking and whispering among themselves as they stared at the eccentric group congregating around the pool that hadn't been there five minutes earlier.

"Somebody needs to go over there," one of the seventh-years posed. "At least make sure we won't get ourselves sacrificed to some demon while we sleep." She shuddered. "That _thing_ he summoned into the Great Hall _still_ gives me the shivers."

"Yeah, but who?" a second seventh-year asked.

"Oh, fine," a tiny first year, newly-sorted, said. "We'll go."

"We will?" her friend asked.

"Look at him," the first girl said. "Back there, he looked dangerous, as if he were in charge of the school and didn't allow back-talk. But right now, he looks... normal. And the way he calmed that frightened woman. Well, he doesn't look like a bad person," she finished, blushing when everybody turned to look at her.

"Oh, fine," her friend muttered. "But if we get hexed, I'm never talking to you again."

"Thanks, Hannah," the girl muttered.

"You're welcome, Susan," her friend replied. "For now. Remember what I told you about being hexed."

"There go a brave pair of sacrifices," the first seventh-year muttered. The other students merely nodded.

The two girls made their way to where their new 'housemates' were lounging around the 'pool'.

"HI," Susan squeaked, her voice higher than she intended.

Harry looked up at them. "Hi," he replied. "Eh... Susan... and eh... Hannah, right?"

Both girls squeaked that he knew their names, before Susan nodded bravely. "Ceri? Can you create two more chairs? Newt still won't teach me." Ceri nodded, and waved her hand, two more reclining chairs appearing. "Have a seat, girls," Harry said, smiling slightly. "And let me introduce my friends here. Over there is Anko, she's a ninja." Anko gave a small wave. The two girls returned it. "Next to her is Road Kamelot, she'll be trying to attend classes with me. She's very good with the dimensional magics." Road grinned cheerfully and waved enthusiastically. The two girls relaxed slightly, and returned the wave.

"Next to Road is Azula, Crown Princess of the Fire Country. She's really good with fire."

The two girls gulped, forgot they were seated, and tried to bow, curtsy, and whisper all kind of things at the same time. "We're really far from the Fire Country," the princess royal declared. "In fact, it's not even on this world. For now, I'm going with just 'Azula'," she told the two girls. "Although it never ceases to be fun to see people fall over themselves when Harry tells them who I am." Th two girls blushed.

"And Azula has a wicked sense of humor, too," Harry told them. "Don't pay too much attention to it." Azula grunted something, and stuck out her tongue.

"Real mature, Azula," Anko said with a grin. She got the tongue treatment as well.

"Anyway, next to Azula is Newt. She's my first ever friend. And my guardian, I guess you could say. She's been teaching me magics, and has been taking care of me since I was six. Oh, and she's a demon."

Susan and Hannah drew pale, staring at Newt, who stared right back. "Newt," Harry said, sighing slightly. "Please stop trying to scare them. I know you're a softy, they don't."

Newt turned to Harry. "Say what?"

"You're a softy," Anko said with a grin. "At least when it concerns Harry."

Newt frowned slightly, and crossed her arms. "I'll show you how soft I am," she muttered darkly.

"This is Ceri," Harry said, going on, not even paying attention to Newt's muttering. "She has become my Familiar tonight."

"Hi," Susan managed. Ceri didn't reply.

"Ceri," harry said, drawing her attention. "These are Susan and Hannah. They said 'hi'."

Ceri's attention shifted from Harry to Susan and Hannah, and she dipped her head respectfully. "You've got to excuse Ceri," Harry said, gently. "She's had a rough time with Uncle Reppy."

"That was the demon you summoned, right?" Susan asked.

Harry nodded. "I've known him for almost as long as I've known Newt. He's not that bad – for a demon, anyway. But I hate the way he treated poor Ceri. I hope I can help her recover. Anyway, there is still one more person you have to meet." He slipped from his chair, and put his hand in the pool, returning ten seconds later with a large, brown slug in his hand.

"This is Edriss 562," Harry said. "Former Visser One of the Yeerk Empire." He placed his hand next to his ear, and let the Yeerk crawl inside. When he knew she had connected to his brain, he focused back on the disgusted face of Susan and Hannah. "She is a Yeerk, a kind of symbiont. She talks to my mind, and is able to connect to my senses. It's like having a second brain. She's really smart."

"Eh... hi?" Susan managed.

Harry's right hand came up to return the wave. "Hi," he said, but his voice had taken on a distinctive female tinge, before his hand dropped. "E is able to take control over my body. She usually doesn't, and she always asks for permission before doing it."

"Doesn't that hurt?" Susan asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not at all." His eyes took on a distant look, as if he were listening to something, then shrugged. "If you want, E would be willing to show you."

"Let her... go into my ear?" Susan asked.

Harry nodded. "It doesn't hurt."

Susan and Hannah shared a look. "And she won't... take over?"

"She'll ask permission first," Harry assured them.

"Alright," Susan finally said, and Harry grinned as he held up his hand. After the Yeerk had crawled out of his ear, he held the slug-like creature out to Susan.

"Be careful, E is really fragile and vulnerable like this. She doesn't hear and see, and can only feel rudimentary. Just place her next to your ear, she'll do the rest." He gently transferred the creature to Susan, who shuddered slightly as the Yeerk slipped into her hand. Slowly, she raised it to her ear, and giggled slightly when the Yeerk slipped inside. It felt like someone was tickling her brain.

"Hey, wow," Susan said, smiling widely. "This is cool!" she cocked her head, and listened to something. Then she looked at Harry, and giggled.

"What?" he asked, suddenly not sure whether this was a good idea.

"She's telling me a very funny story about you," Susan said, giggling.

"E!" Harry shouted. "You wouldn't!"

"Just a second," Susan whispered, before her eyes blinked, and the eleven-year-old's bodily mannerisms suddenly took on an adult air. "Of course I would," Edriss replied through Susan. "She's a fun one, this girl. I think I like her. Can I keep her?"

Harry frowned. "Don't you think that's _her_ decision?"

Edriss grinned Susan's mouth wider. "I think she likes me, too."

Harry felt a little sad that he was going to be abandoned so easily then shrugged. "If it makes you happy," he muttered.

Edriss ruffled Harry's hair. "You're adorable," she said, grinning. "I wouldn't abandon you so easily. But it did prove my point."

"Huh? What?" Harry asked, now _really_ sure this had been a bad idea.

"That, even though you act like a total asshole at times, you're just as big a softy as Newt is." With those words, it became apparent that Susan was back in control, as the girl started giggling loudly.

"Hogwarts is going to suck," Harry muttered.

00000 Potions Class 00000

Harry watched the Potions Master give his speech, and frowned slightly. In his mind, Edriss was counseling him, warning him of things he hadn't even picked up in the Professor's mannerisms. Having an alien specialist on human behavior in his mind helped considerably.

One thing was sure – the man was not going to make this easy on Harry.

"Potter, what do you get if you add asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" the man suddenly demanded.

Harry blinked twice, realized that Edriss couldn't possibly know the answer any more than he would, glanced at Road, seated right next to him, and confirmed her ignorance. He blinked once more, and connected his mind to Ceri's, his Familiar currently present in the Hufflepuff Common Room. Newt had finally shown him how to start making use of his Familiar, and using her extensive knowledge on Earth magic – which included the art of potions – was one advantage.

"Sleeping Potion, Sir," Harry replied. He cocked his head. "Although it would require valerian roots and sopophorous beans as well. Then it's so potent it can't be negated. In fact, it looks like a death sentence."

The man frowned harshly. "Five points from Hufflepuff for your cheek, Potter," the man snapped. Harry's frown deepened. He had been forced to delve into his Familiar's knowledge in order to be able to produce the answer to an obviously advanced question, and had gotten points deducted for it?

Harry shrugged it off. "Where would I find a bezoar?" the man snapped out.

_What the fuck is – never mind,_ Harry snapped to himself, and once again dove into Ceri's knowledge. "Stomach of a goat, Sir," he replied, although his respectful tone had developed a steely undercurrent. Snape obviously hadn't expected him to answer the second question correctly. "Another five points from Hufflepuff for being a know-it all, Potter. Tell me, what's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

_Damn the Turn,_ harry muttered. "No difference, Sir," he replied when Ceri once more assisted him. "Same plant, also known as Aconite." Ceri having asked him why he needed to know so many things, Harry replied what had happened. His Familiar sent him back something, and a smirk appeared on Harry's face.

"Any more questions, Sir?" he asked, reaching into his bag, and retrieved a small bag of powdered asphodel root. Snape started to grow red, and Harry calmly retrieved an infusion of wormwood from his bag next. The man blinked. Harry retrieved valerian roots.

"Another five points from Hufflepuff for your disrespectful tone, Potter!"

Harry retrieved sopophorous beans, took his cauldron, and lit a fire. "I find it curious, how easily potions can be added to something, Sir," Harry merely said. "After all, some potions are taste- and colorless."

The man grew white. "Are you threatening me, Potter?"

"Merely making an observation, Sir," Harry replied, continuing to brew his potion. "Just as I would observe that it's quite easy to add a potion to something. Without anyone knowing. Especially when one happens to know people who can become invisible, travel through ley lines, or use a multitude of other things Hogwarts wards don't protect against."

The man had started to sweat as the potion continued, and Harry continued to make casual 'observations'.

"I'm sure that the wizarding world knows better than to antagonize people who have the power to do all of these things," Harry finally said, when the potion was nearly complete. "Especially when certain people are very protective of their friends – or their housemates." he looked up at the pale white sallow face of the sweating Potions Master. "And I'm sure that the teachers know better than to hand out unjust punishments for exactly that reason. Am I right, professor?"

Snape swallowed. "Yes, Potter," the man said, sounding as if someone were pulling his teeth – without the benefit of anesthetics. "Fifteen points to Hufflepuff for a correctly brewed Draught of Living Death."

Harry smirked at the man, and bottled his Potion. "I'm sure you won't mind if I take this with me. I'd hate to be forced to brew a new batch in the Common Room – where anybody could conceivably get their hands on it. That would mean just anybody could use this to knock somebody out."

Snape's Adam's apple bopped up and down like a yo yo. "Quite right, Potter. Five points to Hufflepuff for your... precautions."

Harry smirked, and stood up as the bell rang the end of the class. He stood up, and walked out. "I'm looking forward to the next class, Professor. Although I hope it won't be as... exciting."

"I'm sure it won't be," the man muttered through gritted teeth.

00000 Al finds out 00000

Harry was seated in the middle of his friends and assorted Familiars at the head of Hufflepuff table. Conversation was light, some of the Hufflepuffs even joining in. They were getting used to Harry and his female company.

In the middle of the meal, with a giant thunderclap and impressive lightshow, the demon Algaliarept materialized, right in front of the Head Table.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the demon stated, calmly. "It has come to my attention that a certain breach of our contract has happened, and as such, I have come to collect my prize." Even though the demon was wearing a human disguise, that smile and bloodthirsty glare in his eyes were decidedly inhuman.

"May I ask what transgression you are talking about?" Dumbledore asked, his usually placid composure replaced by one that showed a mounting fear.

Algaliarept pointed to a certain greasy-haired Potions Master. "He attempted to interfere with the education of Harry James Potter. As such, you have breached your contract with me."

Dumbledore leveled a gaze at Snape, who had the grace to look at the table in shame.

"Uncle Reppy," Harry said, standing up from his seat, and started to walk the length of the table, to the front of the room. "I believe I have punished the Potions Master for his transgression." The man in question looked up, leveled a glare at Harry, and opened his mouth. "Silence," Harry commanded, and despite himself, Snape's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. The boy looked back at the demon. "I would like to take over this debt."

"Oh?" Algaliarept asked, looking interested, before glancing at Newt, who merely had one eyebrow raised. "And what did you have in mind, Harry James Potter?"

"I will take over his debt," Harry repeated. "I will monitor the situation, making sure you would not need to use your sparse time looking into the situation here. When I have decided transgressions have been made against me or mine, I will either call you, or balance the debt myself, if you would desire so."

Algaliarept looked at Dumbledore. "And why should I not take him right now? I am still in need of a Familiar."

Harry looked at the Headmaster, before turning his intense gaze back at the demon before him. "Uncle Reppy, you disappoint me."

"Oh?" the demon asked, chuckling slightly. "Pray tell, Harry James Potter, in what way? It is a rare and brave man who can say those words to my face – and survive."

"I always thought you wanted to best of the best, the very reason why you have had Ceri for the last thousand years. Look at the man, Uncle Reppy; he is ancient. His body is not what it should be. I do not believe he would, or even could, be your Familiar for more than a decade. You told me you have a different Familiar in mind when you sold Ceri to me. Wouldn't this other person be a better choice?"

Algaliarept looked at Dumbledore, then nodded. "True. Rachel Mariana Morgan would make a very good Familiar, able to kindle demon magic herself. And it would give me time to finish up my project with her." The demon turned to look at Harry once more. "Tell me, Harry James Potter, what would you have of me in return for this... freedom?"

"I want Ceri's things," he replied. "Yesterday, the poor girl was forced to summon herself a bathing suit. She has no clothes nor jewelry of her own. I know you gave her the most lavish clothes and items you could find. I want them."

Algaliarept thought for a few seconds. "Very well. They are merely taking up space right now, and this way I can be rid of them." He snapped his fingers, and a couple of large crates appeared.

Harry looked at the crates, and nodded. "There is one item missing, Uncle Reppy."

"Oh?"

"Her soul," Harry said with a faint smile.

"You want _her soul? _After a thousand years, it is as black as night, practically useless. Why would you want her soul?"

"Because it is hers," Harry said with the same faint smile. "Do we have a deal?"

The demon shrugged, and snapped his fingers once more. A faint glow covered Ceridwen, before she slumped over in her chair. "We have a deal, Harry James Potter. I will await your word that I can come and collect my prize – the soul of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Harry nodded. "Return then, Algaliarept."

The demon grinned, and vanished.

"I thank you, my dear boy," Dumbledore whispered.

"I did it for Ceri's things," Harry said, turning his back to the Headmaster, and jumping on the Hufflepuff table. "Know that this is the lengths I will go to for those I call 'friend', and that this is nowhere _near_ how far I would go for those I call 'Family'. I will deal with demons, I will invoke the strongest of magics." He started waking the length of the table, every eye in the room fixed on him. "Yesterday, I was offered the friendship of those within the House of Hufflepuff. Those that would do harm to them, would do harm to me. Know that, when you talk to them, you talk to me, and what you do unto them, you are doing unto me. Is that clear?"

Nobody dares contradict him.

00000 End of the first year 00000

"This is _fun!_" Harry declared, as he stood in the middle of the Devil's Snare – the plant crawling an slithering as far away as it could from him and the other girls.

"Especially with that three-headed dog," Anko said, grinning at the entrance, where a very large, very trussed-up three-headed dog could be seen, trashing and straining against unbreakable ninja-wire.

"I was thinking of Dumbledore," Harry said, still grinning. "He was practically begging me to leave it alone."

"He shouldn't have said that it was a Philosopher's Stone," Azula said.

Harry nodded. "Exactly." He motioned to a stone passageway. "Let's go."

The others followed sedately behind. They emerged into a large cavernous room, with lots of keys. Winged keys. That were flying around.

"Who wants to be we need one of those keys to get through the door?" Harry asked his ladies, none of them wanting to take the sucker bet. Harry lifted his hand, and pointed to the door. "Celerio-"

"Don't you dare, Harry Potter," Newt snapped. "What have I told you about black curses?"

"Not without a Familiar?" Harry asked, motioning to Ceri, who was politely standing a few paces back. She'd gotten better with her soul back, but still was weary of Newt, and a thousand years of servitude weren't changed overnight.

"And were you going to use said Familiar?" Newt asked, hands at her hips, looking, for all intents and purposes, like an angry – human – mother.

"No?" Harry offered sheepishly.

"Now, once again, _with_ your Familiar."

Harry nodded, and glanced at Ceri, who merely nodded. He lifted his hand again, and muttered, "Celerio Inanio."

Nothing happened. Ceri stepped forward until she was right next to Harry, and bent closer to the eleven year old. "You will need to draw upon my magic, Harry. I could barely feel you, and that charm requires quite a bit of power."

"I don't want to hurt you," Harry replied softly.

Ceri smiled slightly, and placed one hand on his head. "I have been the Familiar of Algaliarept for a thousand years. He made cruelty and art form and lifted pain to new levels. I am sure you could not hurt me, even if you wanted to."

Harry, reassured, nodded, and focused back on the door. Drawing a breath, and drew sharply upon the magic he could feel flowing from Ceri. He saw her stiffen slightly, but was reassured that she was in no real pain when he couldn't see her face grimace. "Celerio Inanio!" he snapped, the black charm of demon magic coming into being, first blasting back his hair before blasting it forward when air rushed in to replace the air that had just been exploded into pure fire, taking out the door that had blocked their way.

"Nicely done," Newt commended, as Anko and Azula nodded approvingly, Ceri smiled faintly, and Road merely grinned widely. Deep inside his mind, Edriss shook her head. Boys and their love for explosions.

Stepping through the wreckage of the door, they emerged into a room that resembled a giant chess set. Harry smirked. "Alright, here we go!" His hand came up.

"How about you let me have some fun?" Azula asked. "I haven't had a good workout in ages."

"Me too! Me too!" Anko said, childishly jumping up and down, her hand raised.

"Have fun," Harry said, grinning widely, and clapping his hands, before sitting down, and paying very good attnetion to what they were going to do."

"White or black?" Anko asked Azula.

"I hate white. It's so... upbeat," Azula replied.

Anko shrugged. "Alright, I'll take black."

"Much obliged," the Fire Princess said, grinning, and charging the white pieces. Anko did the same with the black pieces.

With Harry and the other egging them on, it took less than two minutes before Anko and Azula had decimated the chess pieces, not a single one of them remaining into recognizable shape or form. Walking across the chess board to the door, they emerged into a room that stank to High Heavens.

"Drat," Road muttered. "They killed the troll already."

"No, it's still alive," Newt said, motioning to the rising and falling chest of the beast.

Suddenly, two dozen birthday candles – lit birthday candles – emerged in thin air, before their bottoms sharpened out, and flew at high speed at the troll; impaling the beast on the sharp items. "I said, drat, they killed it already."

Harry chuckled as he shook his head. Road could be so very... her... at times. Pushing the door open, they emerged into yet another room.

"Hm. One potion will get us forward, and the other will let us retreat," Newt said, pointing to the door they had come through, which was now covered by purple fire, while the door forward had black flames on it.

Harry lifted a hand at the door leading forward. "This could get good," Newt said, a maniacal grin on her face. "A black demon charm versus wizarding enchantments."

"Celerio Inanio!"

The Fire Charm detonated the very air, extinguishing the merely conjured flames of the protection, blowing out the door. "Hey, it's the stuttering loser!" Harry said, pointing to Quirrel, who was staring at Harry and the girls with the most comical look of shock on his face.

Five minutes, one dead Quirrel, and one captured soul shard later, Harry was staring in confusion at the Mirror of Erised. "I don't get it," Harry said. "I saw nothing special last time, and I see nothing special no... alright, _now_ I see something special." He put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a bright red chunk of Philosopher's Stone.

He looked very carefully at it, then smashed it on the ground. Picking up the various pieces, all of which were, miraculously, of the same size, he started handing them out. "Newt, Azula, Anko, Road, Ceri, Edriss... here you go." Although Edriss couldn't actually physically accept her piece, and it thus remained in Harry's possession, she let him know she appreciated the gesture.

"Why are you giving us this?" Newt asked. "We have no need for gold- or immortality."

"Speak for yourself," Azula and Anko muttered at the same time, while Harry heard Edriss echo the sentiment.

"Hey, it's pretty, nice, and shiny, and I thought girls liked shiny objects?"

Newt chuckled. "Very well. I shall be the envy of the demon world – the only one with a very pretty, if totally useless, piece of philosopher's stone."

Harry chuckled. "You're welcome, Newt."

Five minutes late,r he was still blushing from all the kisses her received from the other females in his group.


	3. Shuttle 2 Potter, Harry Potter

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft two: Potter, Harry Potter**

-

Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: James Bond

Timeframe: Harry Potter, age 1?

Last updated: 29 March 09

-

The man was taking a shortcut on his way to London, cutting through a small suburb named 'Little Whinging' when his trained eyes came across a most unusual sight.

In his business 'unusual' warranted 'further investigation', and so he cut the nearest corner, engaged the stealth device on his Aston Martin, and turned around in a sedate pace, making sure his tires didn't squeal in his usual flamboyant style. Parking the stealthed Aston Martin across the street from number 4, he took out a small pair of night vision goggles, enabling him to see the two strange characters, clothes in what appeared to be dresses, placing a child on the doorstep of the house.

The man frowned on such behavior. The chilly autumn air did not make for a good time nor place to leave an infant, and the way the streetlights had suddenly cut out made him even more suspicious. Both the strange persons pulled out what appeared to be small sticks of wood, before vanishing into thin air.

The man blinked, and readjusted his night vision goggles. No difference. One moment, the people were there, the next they were not.

He hit 'playback' on the recording of his goggles to make sure he hadn't been seeing things.

After half a dozen replays, he was reasonably sure he hadn't missed anything.

Scanning the street, he saw no other people. He opened his car door, and walked out. To anyone who would have seen him, it would have looked as if he had just stepped out of a hole in space. Thinking that those two weirdoes had some kind of stealth device to hide themselves, he tightened the grip on his Walther PPK handgun, and crept to the small infant in the bassinet, left on the doorstep of the house.

Nobody bothered him. Reaching his goal, he swept the area.

It was calm and peaceful.

He looked in the bassinet, seeing a sleeping infant, and a letter. Taking the letter, he scanned the note with years of practice reading reports. His eyebrows rose. This was most unusual.

"In any case, this is no way to treat a small child," the man muttered, taking the bassinet. "I'm taking you to child services, Harry Potter," he whispered half to himself and half to the sleeping infant.

At the sound of his name, the child opened the brightest pair of green eyes the man had ever seen, and despite himself, he smiled slightly at the happily gurgling child. "Friendly chap, aren't you?" he asked the child, who simply smiled up at him.

He put the bassinet in his car, and closed the door, making sure nobody saw him when he disengaged the stealth device, and cut a perfect 180-degree turn with squealing tires. Next to him, the child laughed loudly at the sensation of the sideways G-force, and the man grinned at his passenger.

"If you like that, I'm sure you'll like _this_ even more," the man said with a maniacal grin, cutting the next corner with fish-tailing speed. The child laughed and gurgled. "You know, I might just keep you," he said when the kid kept laughing as he raced through the darkened streets.

"Would you like that, youngster?" he asked the laughing child. "To be the son of James Bond?"

00000 September First, two hours before Platform 9 ¾ 00000

"What have you got for me, Q?" Eleven-year-old Harry Potter asked the aging tinkerer-slash-mad scientist of MI-6.

"Well, young Harry, seeing as technology has problems with magic, we've opted for some old-fashioned mechanical engineering. This ballpoint pen, for instance, if filled with-"

"High explosives," Harry finished. "Press two times to activate and three times to deactivate?"

Q flinched, took the pen, and threw it to the nearest human-like target. The pen stuck to the target, before exploding, taking off the top half of the dummy. "Press three times to activate," he said with a glare at young Harry. "You're as bad as your father!"

"Thanks, Q," harry said with a grin, taking up a small ball. "What's this?"

"That's a prototype-" once again, the man's explanation was cut off when a number of spikes erupted from the ball, drawing a startled 'cool!' from Harry. "- it's meant as a tracker. You activate it right next to whatever you want to track, and the pins keep it in place. But, as it's technological-"

"- it won't work near magic," Harry finished, doing something to make the spikes retract. "Too bad."

"Yes, well, can we get on with it, Harry?" Harry shrugged his ascent, and Q handed him a watch. "This watch comes with a garrote, compass, and, if you're far enough away from magic, a laser scalpel, and GPS receiver."

"No kitchen sink?" Harry asked with a roguish smirk, strapping the watch to his wrist.

"No, but we have been experimenting with-" the man cut off, and glaring at young Harry. "You really are your father's son, Harry."

"Thanks, Q," the young man replied with a smile. "Now, anything else you think might be useful?" he asked, eyeing an assistant who was testing an umbrella with built-in submachine gun.

"I'm not authorized to give you guns of any kind," the man replied. Harry smirked, and eyed an explosive pen tucked into his pocket. Q followed his gaze, yet said nothing, only a mischievous twinkle present in the old man's eyes.

00000 Half an hour later 00000

"Hi M," Harry greeted the grey-haired austere-looking woman, leaning slightly on the modified umbrella Q had given him. "I guess I will see you after term is over."

"I am sure I do not have to tell you to do well?" she half-asked, half-stated.

"Of course not, M," Harry said with a roguish smile. "You know me!"

"That's what I am afraid of," M replied levelly. "Double-O Seven has shown you too many of his bad habits."

Harry shrugged. "Q said the same thing. I think he has taught me how to survive in the real world."

The woman sighed visibly. "That is no comfort, Harry."

Harry kept up the roguish smile. "Oh, cheer up, M. I'll send you a postcard from Hogwarts once I'm there." He lifted up the umbrella he'd been using as a somewhat-cane, and spun it around before tucking it under his arm. "And now I have to procure some transportation. Q didn't want to give me a car."

"Harry, you're eleven. There are some rules that I won't have you break, no matter how much of a charming smile you put on."

"I've been driving since I was seven!" Harry protested.

"So _that_ is why I haven't had to authorize a replacement car for Double-O Seven in four years?"

Harry smirked. "Precisely. See you after term ends, M."

"Harry!"

Harry stopped, half in and half out of MI-6's secret headquarters. "I'll miss you too, M."

"Rogue," she said with a hint of fondness in her voice. A moment later, she was all business. "Are you sure you won't stay with us? I just realized how much the replacement vehicle budget is going to take up this year."

Harry smiled ruefully. "Unfortunately, I will have to decline. I get to learn real magic, M. Not that technological cheating the Q department does. Anyway, I should go in search of transportation. Too bad Dad's in Jamaica. Again." He turned, and the door started to close behind him, but M could still hear the boy mutter, "Lucky Devil."

00000 First Year 00000

"That's strange," Ron said, "I mean, we all know that the Defense post is cursed, but for the man to vanish halfway through the school year?"

Harry smirked, and stood up. "Come on, let me explain what happened."

"I don't like that look on your face, Harry Potter," Hermione declared.

The boy smiled handsomely. "Does that mean you don't like me anymore?"

The girl withered instantly. "No!"

His smile turned into a grin, and together, the threesome walked to the Head Table. "Excuse me, headmaster, but I think you should be aware of a few things."

The Headmaster looked at Harry for a few seconds, before nodding. "It would seem so, mr Potter. Please, by all means, follow me."

In silence, the three students followed the Headmaster. As they neared the gargoyle, Harry leaned over, and said, "Bertie Bott's Every-flavor beans," making the protected to Dumbledore's office nod and step aside.

Dumbledore gave no outward reaction to the student knowing his password, while Ron and Hermione gaped at him.

"How'd you figure _that_ out, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry smirked in that roguishly-handsome fashion of his. "The walls have ears, Ron. Never speak out loud what you want to remain hidden."

"Very astute observation, mr Potter," Dumbledore said as he sat down, waving to create a few extra chairs and inviting the students to take place. "Now, I believe you had a few things you wanted to tell me?"

Harry nodded, and dumped a pretty red piece of rock on the Headmaster's table. "I've held onto this for you since last November. I would advise you to hide precious objects in your safety-deposit box, rather than in the mountain of doom, behind the river of despair."

"I... see," the Headmaster replied, eyeing the Philosopher's Stone.

"Second, it would do you well to screen your teachers... one has a dark mark, and is most definitely a sociopath, seeing how he takes his anger out on his students. The second, who vanished last week, had a disembodied spirit in the back of his head, hidden under his turban. The reason he vanished was quite simply because of this rock here – as it was no longer in its hiding place, the spirit had o more use of its host, killed him, and vanished."

The Headmaster seemed to age. "I would like to ask you to remain quiet on what you have learned here today," he asked.

Harry shrugged. "Don't worry, Headmaster. I am not about to blab to the Daily Prophet how you have made a target out of a thousand students by hiding the Philosopher's Stone in it, nor am I about to tell them that the Defense teacher you hired housed an evil spirit, seeing as both problems have been resolved. However, in sight of student safety, I do feel urged to note that I will be compelled to notify the press of a marked Death Eater taking out his anger and frustrations on three out of the four Hogwarts Houses. Unless that matter too, were to be resolved, of course."

"Professor Snape is the finest-"

"My apologies, Headmaster. My father does keep reminding me that I shouldn't be too polite. Perhaps I wasn't clear. The man goes, or the story goes to the press. And I shall remind you. My name is Potter. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. They will believe me, especially as the bastard won't be able to weasel his way out of it without exposing his arms."

Seeing the Headmaster's arm twitch, Harry smiled crookedly. "Oh, and I have read that there are things like memory charms, I also should note that I have written everything down, and sent it to my father, who knows to send it to the press should I fail to remember what was written in the documents."

The man sagged in his chair, and aged before their very eyes. "I... will take care of the situation."

Harry smiled. "Thank you, Headmaster. Have a good day."

The old man just nodded, and Harry followed his two friends to the exit. "Harry, one question, if I may?"

Harry stopped, his hand on the door's handle, and looked over his shoulder. "Of course, Headmaster. I can't guarantee an answer, though."

"How come you were sorted in Gryffindor, rather than Slytherin?"

Harry laughed loudly. "And expose to the world who or what I really am? No, headmaster. Let them think I am a mindless brute. Good day."

the Headmaster looked at his Phoenix. "I am feeling remarkably humbled by young mister Potter, Fawkes."

The bird trilled something that sounded too much like laughter in Dumbledore's opinion, and he settled for giving his familiar a dirty look.

00000 Second Year 00000

"What do you mena, there's something wrong with Ginny?" Ron asked, looking over the students in the Common Room, gaze settling on his younger sister. "Are you sure you're looking at the right girl?"

Harry shrugged. "Red-head, used to be spunky, about yea-high?" he asked, holding his hand at Ginny-height. "Yeah, I'm sure. She's doing strange things at night, but she's not aware of them. I think she's being controlled, or brainwashed, or something."

"How'd you figure that?" Ron asked, again.

Harry shrugged. "Followed her, of course. She keeps vanishing into the Girl's Toilet on the second floor. Spends hours there. A gentleman never enters a girl's bathroom, unless invited, so I had to wait outside."

"Right then," Ron said, now convinced. "How do we deal with this?"

Harry shrugged. "All I found is that she's writing a lot in her diary."

Ron frowned. "Gin's never kept a diary."

"Maybe she just started it this year," Harry muttered. "But it is a strange coincidence that she would start now. Except for the bathroom, it's the only thing that she spends any significant amount of time with."

"Could you... you know... get hold of it?"

"Steal a young lady's diary? Ron, a gentleman never does such things," Harry said with a small smile.

"Yes, yes, I know, you're a gentleman."

"When it suits me," Harry said with a wink. "How does tonight sound?"

_Later_

"So... you killed the Basilisk, destroyed the diary, and freed young miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes." Next to him, Ron and Ginny were nodding as well.

"Once more, please. How exactly did you kill the basilisk?"

"Now that would be telling, Headmaster," Harry said with a small grin. Ron and Ginny looked at each other, paling as they were forced to remember how Harry's explosive ballpoint pen had separated the Basilisk's head from its body. As Harry explained, it wasn't his fault the snake was stupid enough to try and _swallow_ a high-explosive pen, was it?

"Thankfully, nobody was hurt or attacked by the snake," Harry said with a small smirk.

"Yes. Yes, exactly," the Headmaster muttered. "Thank you, mr Potter. Fifty points to Gryffindor."

00000 third Year 00000

Harry entered Dumbledore's office, holding in his hands a cage with an ugly rat in it. Next came a scruffy, haggard-looking man, followed by Ron and Hermione.

"Headmaster, meet Sirius Black, innocent escapee from Azkaban Prison, and Peter Pettigrew, backstabbing, traitorous Animagus," Harry said, placing the cage down on Dumbledore's desk, and motionign first to Sirius, then to the rat. "I'm sure you can figure out what to do from here?"

The man just nodded.

"Oh, and please take Hermione's time-Turner away – it's giving me a headache trying to keep tag on her, plus, it's pushing her near a nervous breakdown."

Everybody stared at him. "How did you-" Hermione started to ask.

"That would be telling," Harry replied with a small grin. "Hermione?"

She sighed, took the Time-Turner, and placed it on the Headmaster's desk, for enough away from the cage so the animagus couldn't get to it. "Harry's right. It's driving me insane. I want to drop some subjects, if you don't mind, Headmaster?"

"Of course not, miss Granger," Dumbledore muttered. "Just get your revised course load to me, and I will straighten everything out."

Harry smiled, clapped his hands, and stood up. "Boy, short year this time," he said. "We're mid-November and I've already cleared up everything. And, best of all, no insidious plot to do grievous bodily harm to me, or my fellow students."

Dumbledore said nothing, and merely stared sadly at Harry, who seemed to be waiting for something. "Nothing you want to tell me?" Harry prodded. When Dumbledore said nothing, he sighed. "Great. Dad said that bad guys are prone to monologuing, unable to resist the urge to show off their dark and evil schemes. Guess I'll have to wait to see what next year has in stall for me, huh Headmaster?"

The man flinched, but remained silent.

00000 Fourth Year 00000

Harry robbed his hands. Finally, he was far enough into puberty to be able to start enjoying the female form. Plus, a whole school of very pretty French witches had joined them for the Triwizard Tournament.

Of course, all that would make the party complete would be his inclusion in the tournament. He'd need to make sure that didn't happen.

He eyed Mad-Eye Moody. Something about the man just set his instincts on edge. The man took a swig of his flask. Harry rubbed his chin. Of course; the fact that the man only drank from his flask. Peculiar.

That night, harry made sure to change some drinks around. Especially drinks contained within flasks that were only ever used by their latest Defense Professor.

Halfway through breakfast, the man fell down, started convulsing, and his body _changed_.

Harry shook his head, feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He caught Dumbledore's eyes, and winked. The man sighed, nodded gravely at Harry, and took charge of the situation.

That night, he ascended the staircase to the girl's dormitories, Lavender giggling as she held on to his arm.

Half the boys eyed him with envy.

What was worse, nobody could figure out why the alarms didn't go off.

The next evening, Hermione took Lavender's place.

By the time the week was out, Harry still hadn't once used his bed in the boys' Dormitories.

The Weasley Twins yelled after him when he ascended the stairs, one arm each being held by a Patil Twin. "Harry!"

"Twin One?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Twins, Harry?"

Harry looked from Parvati to Padma, then back down. "You're not my type, Twin One."

The twins blinked, then laughed. "You _do_ realize that Padma's not a Gryffindor?"

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't bother them, doesn't bother me, why should it bother you, Twin Two?"

"How can you keep telling us apart?" the first twin asked.

"Practice, Twin One," Harry said with a smirk. "Now, will you let me get on with my date?"

"Just one question," the second Weasley twin asked. "How can you go up those stairs with a different girl each night, and not have them hex your bollocks off?"

Harry laughed as he turned and ascended the stairs. "Now _that_ would be telling!"

"Lucky Bastard," the first twin muttered.

_Later..._

"A ball?" Harry asked, rubbing his hands. "Excellent!"

"How can you say that!?" Ron demanded, angrily.

Harry shrugged. "Very easily," he declared, standing up, and walking to the table set apart for the students of Beauxbatons. Bowing lowl before Fleur, he declared in French, "Would you consent to being my partner for the Yule Ball, Miss Delacour?"

"And why would I do that, Mister Potter?" she asked, still in French, letting her Allure slip.

He ignored the allure that wanted to force him to become a gibbering wreck. "Because I am able to resist that allure of yours?" he pointedly asked. "Plus, I speak excellent French, and am a champion ballroom dancer."

Fleur looked him up and down, the fancy robes, his roguish smile, and the fact that he had a... reputation. And what said reputation would do to her parents. She smiled. "I shall do you the great honor of being your escort for the Yule Ball," she declared.

00000 Yule Ball 00000

Harry walked down the stairs to arrive in the entrance hall, where he would wait for his lovely date. With practices ease, he held his head high and ignored the looks his attire drew from the assembled crowds.

"You're a git, Harry," one of the Weasley twins said, taking one, long, hard, look at him and seeing the reaction it got on his own date.

Harry shrugged, and looked at himself. "Just because I am a member of upper class, and know how to dress myself like one, Twin Two?"

"But Harry, did you really need to wear the Sword of Gryffindor?"

"It was lonely in my trunk, Twin One. Besides, when other than tonight do I get a chance to show it off?" Harry asked with a faint smile, putting one hand on the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist.

"And the ring, Harry?"

"I _am_ the last remaining Potter, so why not wear my signet ring, Twin Two?" Harry returned easily, taking a practiced look at the Potter Family Signet Ring on the pinky of his right hand.

"Dammit Harry, you can still tell us apart!"

"And I will only get better, Two One," Harry said with a faint smile. "Excuse me, gentlemen, I see my date." He nodded politely to Fred and George, skethed a faint bow to their dates, and slid across the floor to Fleur, who had arrived in a mass of Beauxbatons girls.

He bowed low before her, and brought her knuckles to his lips. "You, My Lady, are simply radiant this evening."

He heard sighs from the girls, angry muttering from the boys for setting an impossible example, and a faint giggle from his date. Straightening out he held his arm. "Shall we?"

She looked him up and down, from his dark burgundy Acromentula silk robed, the ornate Sword of Gryffindor at his hip, the Potter signet ring, and his slicked-back hair. Her hand attached itself to his arm. "You are quite handsome yourself, My Lord. Let us show this riffraff how a member of upper class enjoys an evening."

He smiled at her. "of course, My Lady. But really, we shouldn't hold it against them. Always remember that we are privileged, and they can not help their birth. We should set a good example, and hope they follow in our footsteps."

More angry muttering. Harry smiled faintly in the direction of the Slytherins. The other three houses had long since gotten used to him. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"Just because you managed to seduce a Half-Veela whore-" Draco Malfoy's voice cut off when Harry's open hand connected to his cheek with a resounding slap.

"If you wish to insult my lovely date, I shall be forced to ask you to finish this like men," Harry declared, left hand still resting on the hilt of his sword.

"I shall get you for this, Potter," Malfoy grunted, rubbing his reddening cheek.

"Draw your sword, Lord Malfoy. Let us finish this like men," Harry said, grabbing hold of the hilt with his right hand, ready to draw.

Malfoy's eyes grew wide as he took in Harry's ready stance, his cold eyes, downturned lips, and right hand gripping his sword's hilt. "I... withdraw my comments."

Harry relaxed. "You are an honest coward, Malfoy," he said, and extended an arm for Fleur. "My Lady, I humbly apologize for this unseemly display. I am afraid I took the liberty of defending your honor."

Fleur giggled cutely, and took his arm. "It is quite alright, My Lord. It has been many a day since a gentleman has offered to protect my virtue and my honor." She leaned in, and placed a chase kiss on his cheek. "I am grateful, My Lord." Her eyes shimmered with passion, and Harry easily returned her smile.

It was going to be an... interesting... evening, Harry decided. Both of them were obviously going to keep playing by the rules of old, maintaining the chivalry of the Elder Days, releasing their passion only when in private.

It was going to be... fun.

"You have done well for yourself, Harry Potter," a heavily accented voice said from behind him, and Harry smiled slightly as he turned to Viktor Krum.

"Viktor! My good friend," Harry replied in flawless Bulgarian. He motioning with his free hand to Fleur. "You know my lovely date, Fleur Delacour." He switched to French. "My Lady, I am sure you know my good friend, Viktor Krum."

"Charmed," Fleur told the Bulgarian Seeker, who bowed in her direction.

"The honor is mine, My Lady. Harry, I am sure you know my lovely date, Hermione Granger." He switched to English. "My Lady, I am sure you know my good friend, Harry Potter."

Hermione, it seemed didn't really know what to do, so she mimicked what she had heard and seen from Fleur, before turning to Harry. "I didn't know you spoke Bulgarian, Harry."

"I speak a dozen languages," Harry replied, smoothly. "My dad was adamant that a gentleman should know his way in the world." A signal sounded. "Ah, excuse me, Viktor, Miss Granger. It seems we are wanted. My Lady, shall we?"

"We shall, My Lord," Fleur said with just a tiny curtsy in answer to Harry sketched bow. Together, they took to the front of the assembled Triwizard Champions, Viktor and Hermione right behind them.

Half an hour later, as they were still floating across the dance floor, Fleur looked into Harry's eyes. "You weren't kidding when you said you were a champion ballroom dancer."

"Ah, My Lady," Harry said with a faint smile. "A gentleman should know the noble pursuits of leisure, as well as passion. I have always found these lessons... tedious, but right now, I am uniquely grateful to my father for insisting."

Fleur smiled. "I believe I shall send a personal thank you note to your father, then, for I am grateful as well, My Lord."

"I shall give you his address, My Lady. I am sure he will be very appreciative."

Fleur dipped her head, and they flowed from a foxtrot into a quickstep without a single interruption, following the music. Angry and jealous glares followed them across the dance floor. "Tell me, My Lord, would you really have fought the Lord Malfoy?"

Harry smiled faintly. "Of course, My Lady. No gentleman would allow such a slight against his date to go without punishment. And as good as I am at dancing, I am better with a blade. I found swordfighting a more... enjoyable... lesson to learn when compared to dancing."

Fleur's eyes went wide, before she smiled widely. "I think I will enjoy finding out the rest of your secrets, My Lord."

"And I think I will enjoy you finding out about them, My Lady," Harry replied smoothly.

00000 Next February 00000

"Hey, Harry."

"Good morning, Twin One. How can I help you?" Harry asked politely, while he subtly threw a look at his wristwatch. He'd never needed Q's gadgets, but it told excellent time.

"Are you sick, Harry?"

"Sick, Twin Two? Why?"

"For months, you went up those stairs to the girl's dormitory, a different girl on your arm each day. By the way, you still won't tell us how to get up there?"

Harry shook his head, then motioned for them to continue. "Ever since Christmas, you only ever hang around with Fleur."

"I see. Not that it is any of your business, Twin One, as a gentleman never tells of his conquests. I can say, however, that Fleur and I are... complicated."

Both Twins oh-ed. "That explains a lot, Harry."

"Happy to oblige, Twin Two." He stood up, and tipped a non-existing hat. "Excuse me, I have an appointment... with Fleur."

Both twins stared after Harry as he made his way out of the Common Room. "how he gets into so much trouble-"

"-and keeps getting away with it-"

"-we will never understand," the twins said, to each other, each picking up where the other left off. "But boy-"

"-we sure wish we could adopt him-"

"-Purely for the entertainment value of watching him try that stuff with Mom."

Both Twins looked at each othr, then glanced at Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, who had been listening (subtly or not-so-subtly) in on the conversation. "Poor Mom," Ron said with a grin.

00000 End of year Four 00000

"Congratulations again on winning the Tournament, Fleur," Ron said, months of experience and a very stern 'talk' from Harry had allowed the boy to overcome his inherent weakness against Fleur's Allure. "And enjoy the summer!"

"Thank you, I shall," Fleur said with a dainty smile as the group separated at King's Cross. "Come on, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle threw her older sister a dirty look, and muttered in French.

Harry smiled slightly, and put an arm around the young girl's shoulders. "Of course you're not a dog, Gabby. But we don't want to keep my father waiting. He gets... antsy... when I'm late."

She beamed up at him. "Of course, Harry."

"Why do you listen to him and not me? And why do you let him call you Gabby, while you hate it usually?" Fleur petulantly asked her sister.

Gabrielle merely stuck out her tongue, while Harry shook his head and laughed faintly. He enjoyed the banter between the siblings.

Seeing his father, Harry lifted one hand. "Shall we, My Lady?"

"Of course, My Lord," Fleur said, placing her hand on his. Gabrielle made a face as both Harry and Fleur fell back into their established patterns, and made their way through the crowd to where James Bond was leaning, apparently casually, against a wall. The crowd split apart before them without any effort on their part.

"Father, allow me to introduce, My Lady Fleur Delacour, and her lovely younger sister Gabrielle. My Lady, Gabby, my father, James Bond."

Fleur held up her hand, knuckles facing up. "Charmed, My Lord."

james had a curious twinkle in his eyes as he bent over, and kissed the offered hand. "_Enchantée,_ mademoiselle."

Gabrielle huffed, and held out her hand normally. "Pleased to meet you, Sir."

James smirked, shook the eight-year-old's hand. "And pleased to meet you, too, Gabrielle."

"You're not going to be doing that all summer, are you?" the young part-Veela demanded harry and Fleur. "It's annoying enough at school."

"My Lady is worthy of only the greatest respect," Harry said with a straight face, tucking Fleur's hand back into the crook of his elbow.

"And My Lord knows how to treat a Lady of high class," Fleur added in.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes, and muttered in French, "Gods above help us, they're serious."

James chuckled. "I know my son, young Gabrielle. Tell me, have you and the other students... reacted... to their behavior?"

"We all asked them to stop at some point," she muttered petulantly.

James nodded. "Which was all the positive reinforcement they needed, I wager. You see, Gabrielle, my son needs nothing but someone telling him _not_ to do something, and he jumps head-first into it."

Gabrielle looked flabbergasted at her sister and her boyfriend. "You mean... all I had to do was tell them I loved the way they acted, and they would have stopped?"

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "Well, we're certainly not going to stop now," he said flatly, looking at his father, who was doing his best to fight the grin. "Thanks for ruining our fun, _dad_."

"It's what fathers do, Harry," James said with a widening grin.

Gabrielle laughed. "I think I am going to like you," she said to James.

It was said with such obvious enthusiasm that James laughed as well, and rubbed Gabrielle's head. "I think I am going to like you too, Gabrielle. Tell me, do you enjoy playing pranks on people?"

Harry grunted. "Oh, no. I _knew_ I never should have introduced Dad to Gabby." He shared a suffering look with Fleur. "We will need to step up our game, My Lady. We have our reputation from school to defend. And, should all else fail, I am sure that Fred and George will be eager to help us, and perhaps Sirius and Remus..."

"We will need reinforcements," James told Gabrielle. "Tell me, Gabrielle, have you ever heard of the Q department?"

Harry slapped his forehead. "Drat."

"Never mess with the best, Harry."

"I'll be sure to tell M that," Harry replied.

James paled, and Fleur and Gabrielle looked on in confusion as Harry started to laugh loudly. Placing a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder, and throwing an arm around Fleur's, he said," Let me tell you what Auntie M did to Dad last year..."

"This summer is going to suck," James muttered, seeing how Harry took away his potential pranking partner.


	4. Shuttle 3 Jinchuuriki ZeroOne

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft three: Jinchuuriki zero-one**

-

Main Universe: Naruto

Crossovers: none

Timeframe: AU, sealing of Kyuubi

Last updated: 2 May 09

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The Fourth Hokage looked at the form of his newborn-son, grief evident in his eyes. Mere hours earlier, his wife had died in childbirth, and now he was about to leave his son an orphan, using his own life force to seal the demon known as Kyuubi no Youko, the nine-tailed Demon Fox in the body of his son.

Brash and take-charge the Fourth Hokage may be, but he as no fool. He hoped that his son would be seen as a hero, but knowing better than to hope against human nature, he realized that it was very likely that his soon could come to harm at the hands of the villagers.

And so, he designed his seal to imprison the Kyuubi, and he designed a blood-linked scroll his son could open at age six. As the years would go by, the scroll would reveal more and more of its contents, changed at the day of little Naruto's birth, revealing more and more of his heritage, his strengths, and his weaknesses. It would be the guide to his son that the Fourth could no longer be, and it would teach the child how to use the power of the Kyuubi that was to be his son's ward.

Leaving instructions with his successor, who had also been his predecessor, the Fourth performed his technique, a technique that would use his life force as a sacrifice to seal the demon Kyuubi away.

00000 Age 6-7 00000

Throwing a look over his shoulder, six-year-old Naruto laughed at the group of four ANBU that were chasing him. His prank on them had worked perfectly, unfortunately, they were now hot on his tail. He rounded a corner, still looking to see how close his pursuers were getting, and as such, he wasn't paying attention where he was going.

The next moment, he smashed into someone, throwing himself and his unfortunate target to the ground. Rolling instinctively into a ball, he expected yelling. When none came within five seconds, he peeked out from under his arms, staring straight into the most gorgeous pair of pure white, pupil-less eyes he had ever seen. A single word flashed through his mind.

_Hyuuga..._

The girl was his age, just about. Throwing a look where he came from, back to the alley he had been trying to enter, and noticed that he had firmly trapped himself. The alley was a dead end, and there was no chance of him making a further run for it.

"You haven't seen me!" he told the girl, and raced to a dumpster, diving behind it, and hoping that he wouldn't be ratted out. He was expecting to be ratted out. Nobody would ever stick up for him...

"Where is..." he heard the voice of one of the ANBU. "Excuse me, Hyuuga-sama. Did you see where he went? Blond boy, about your age, blue eyes."

"He... he went that way," he heard the girl's hesitant voice say, and he expected the ANBU to come looking behind the dumpster at any moment.

He jumped when the girl peeked into his hideout. "Ano... they've gone."

Naruto stared at her, flabbergasted, for just a few seconds. "Thanks!" he said, grinning widely.

"W... why were they chasing you?" the girl asked.

His grin took on a foxy relish. "I put a red cap in with their white laundry."

A dainty hand covered her mouth. "S-so that's why they were dressed in pink."

"Used to be white," Naruto confirmed with a chuckle. By now, he had gotten out of his hideout, and was walking next to the girl, before peeking out of the alley. "I'm Naruto."

"I-I know," she replied with a small stutter. "I-I'm Hinata. Hyuuga Hinata."

"You know? And you still helped?" he asked, astonished for the second time in the space of less than five minutes. Nobody every helped him! The only exception would be the Hokage... but the old man didn't often have time for him anymore. Especially since he had been kicked out of the orphanage and been dumped into his own apartment, somewhere in an almost-abandoned building.

She shrugged. "Y-you don't seem as b-bad as f-father says you are."

He grinned widely at her. "Thanks!" He looked over her shoulder, to where the ANBU were doubling back. He winced. "They're back!" he hissed urgently, and looked at the girl that had saved his hide. Knowing that he could leave her to get into trouble – not on her own, anyway, he grabbed her hand. "Come on, this way!"

Not noticing the tremendous blush on the girl's face, he dragged her out of the alley, to his original escape route, only twenty meters away – the alley next to the one he had mistakingly ducked in to, and dove into an open manhole cover, dragging the girl behind him. As soon as they were both inside, he slid the cover back into place, and dragged her further down.

"A-ano... Naruto-kun... w-what?" she stammered behind him, racing to keep up with his relentless pace.

"We need to get as far away as we can, Hinata-chan," he said urgently, once again, not noticing how her blush increased at his words. Finally, he dragged her to one side, into a pipe that she hadn't noticed there five seconds earlier, And she finally noticed him putting out a lighter, enveloping them into total darkness.

"We need to be silent," he whispered to her. "If they followed us in, they're probably looking for us."

She nodded, before realizing how silly that was in the total darkness. "H-hai," she replied.

It felt like forever before she jerked back to full wakefulness, feeling him shift next to her. He had lit a candle, and she realized that this was more than just a spur-of-the-moment thing, as the pipe they were sitting in was completely dry, held a few candles, as well as a box with what appeared to be food of some kind. He held out a powerbar. "Hungry?" he asked.

She shrugged, took the offered item, and nibbled on it. "I use this pipe often," he replied. "It's right next to the Hokage tower. They never think to look here. I stuck a seal to the entrance. They never see it."

"H-how do y-you know about s-seals?" she stuttered.

His smile faded, and his eyes took on a dead look. "I can't tell you," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Tha-that's okay," Hinata replied.

He looked hopefully at her. "Does... does this mean we're friends?" He sighed slightly. "I've never had a friend."

"A-ano, Naruto-kun... I-I think we are," she replied with a faint smile, a smile which widened at his enthusiastic smile.

00000 few days later – timeline fiddling required. I'm putting Naruto and Hinata at the same age, and thus in the same class, rather than have him fail three times, so they'll graduate together – eventually- and to _uncomplicate_ things during school 00000

"Hinata-chan?" he asked, seeing the girl arrive at school.

"A-ano, Naruto-kun... my father... h-has forbidden me... from t-t-talking to you..." she whispered nearly silently.

"Oh," he replied, face falling. "I understand."

"I-I really liked being your friend, Naruto-kun," she said, looking hopefully up at him. He gave her a sad smile.

"I liked being your friend, too, Hinata-chan," he replied, although it felt as if someone had ripped his guts out. He could feel the secondary seal on his arm burn, and for a moment, he wanted to hit it, release some of the demon's power, and kick her father's butt. But then, he realized, the man was a Hyuuga, and would probably kick _his_ butt, even with the demon Kyuubi's limited amount of power he could draw on at the moment.

He didn't sit with her, nor talked to her, for the rest of the day. Instead, he found her looking sadly at him, a look he returned wholeheartedly.

That evening, after night had fallen, he looked at the Hyuuga compound from the rooftop across the street. "this sucks," he muttered, slipping down a drainpipe. Ten minutes later found him in front of a closed shop. He had never needed the Yamanaka flower shop before, but now he had a need. Picking the lock took him less than thirty seconds. It was something he had become very good in, thanks to his pranking activities.

He looked around the darkened store. What should he do? He knew that girls liked flowers... he blinked. He hoped. He had seen how adult men gave them to their female friends. He made a face as he realized that usually led to a kiss. That seemed yucky to his six-year-old mind, but he hoped that Hinata would like it. He liked seeing her smile.

Hmm... which one would Hinata like? Finally, his eye fell on a beautiful white rose, and he smiled. It was as white as her eyes, so he found it oddly fitting. Leaving money on the counter, he took the flower, left, and re-picked the lock so it latched shut one more.

Compared to getting the flower, breaking into the Hyuuga compound was easy. All he had to do was sit there, on the rooftop across the street, and gaze through the binoculars he had found in the trash. One of the lenses was busted, which meant he could use it for a telescope rather than binoculars, but every little thing helped. Finally, the guard changed, and he slipped in during the minute or so where the guards rotated.

Twenty minutes later, he was back in his grimy apartment.

The next morning, he met Hinata's eyes. She smiled faintly at him, but still walked him by, their eyes meeting and remaining in contact until she had passed him.

Halfway during the afternoon, he opened his book on the page the teacher told him, and found... three coupons for Ichiraku Ramen. His favorite place! Old man Ichiraku always treated him nicely, and their ramen was top notch!

He glanced through the class, as if he were looking at everyone, but his gaze rested on Hinata, and smiled faintly in her direction. She returned his smile.

If they couldn't be friends openly, well then... they'd have to be sneaky about it, wouldn't they?

After school, he made his way to his favorite ramen stand, and ordered three bowls of miso-flavored ramen with the coupons Hinata had given him.

"Be sure to thank your lady friends when you see her, Naruto," old man Ichiraku said with a jovial smile to one of his favorite customers. Naruto immediately winced, and looked around furtively before motioning the man to come closer.

"I'd like to... but her father doesn't want us being friends. So we're not," Naruto whispered. The man looked shocked, than angry, before nodding.

"I got you, Naruto," he said, tapping his nose. "Mom's the word."

Naruto grinned, and ate his meal in silence, thinking of the strange girl that had saved his hide from ANBU, and was now probably locked up at home. He didn't know if he could get a flower to her every day – those things cost money, and his stipend from the orphanage didn't cover expenses like that.

That evening, he was still trying to get a message to Hinata – no flower this time, just a small letter – when he got caught. Two large Hyuuga members lifted him up under his shoulders, and together, marched the boy into an office, ignoring the kicking and screaming as the boy tried to get himself free.

He was dumped on a cushion in front of a desk, behind which sat, on a similar cushion, Hiashi Hyuuga, Clan Leader of the Hyuuga family. Before Naruto could get his legs back under him, a single word stopped him in his tracks.

"Hold!"

Naruto swallowed as the pressure behind his eyes increased, freezing him solid, as if icewater had been poured into his veins.

For the first time since long, Naruto felt true fear.

"Sit."

He sat.

The man pressed the tips of his fingers together, staring at the boy in front of him. Naruto swallowed deeply, and stared back, straight into the man's eyes. Even if he was afraid, at least he'd go out like a man. He repressed the shudder at the sight of those cold eyes – those same eyes that held life in Hinata now only held a promise of death.

"You have broken into my home," the man stated. Not a question – a statement.

Naruto dipped his head. "I have told my daughter not to see you again. I know she has explained this to you."

Naruto swallowed again, and nodded.

"Why have you forced your presence upon her?"

"I did no such thing!" he shouted, trying desperately to get out from under the force of the gaze of the man in front of him. "I haven't forced anything!"

"And yet here you are," the man replied, calmly, as if Naruto hadn't been screaming at him. "Why?"

He needed an excuse. _Any_ excuse. "I... eh... needed money, you see..." he whispered, trying desperately not to stutter, and failing horribly.

"You are a horrible liar," Hiashi replied casually. "Bring her in."

_Oh no,_ Naruto thought desperately. _Please, Hinata-chan, don't give anything away. I'll take all the blame... just don't say anything..._

The sliding door opened, one of the Hyuuga that had captured Naruto now escorting Hinata. Her face lit up upon seeing him. "Naruto... kun..." her voice trailed off when she noticed her father, and Naruto's falling face.

"I see," Hiashi said. He looked at his daughter. "Sit." She sat, in a similar fashion as Naruto himself had sat. "Why have you disobeyed my words?" he demanded of her. Naruto opened his mouth. "I did not speak to you." Naruto's mouth closed. The man frightened the daylights out of him, but if he so much as looked wrong at Hinata... Naruto felt a pressure in his gut equalizing the pressure behind his eyes that seemed to come from Hiashi, and suddenly, Naruto could breathe comfortably, without the crippling fear pressing down on him.

He blinked twice, and smiled at Hiashi. The man seemed honestly startled for just a fraction of a second. "Daughter?"

"F-father, I don't-don't know what you mean."

Naruto nodded with a big smile. If he could piss the man off, he might focus on him, rather than Hinata! "That's right! I just needed some money, that's all. The villagers overcharge me for their crap food, and since you were such an ass to Hinata, I thought I'd, you know, pay you back."

Hyuuga Hiashi, one of the most powerful men in Konoha, stared at the loudmouthed boy sitting next to his daughter. "And you are getting better at lying. However, you must take me for a fool."

Naruto felt sweat drops form in his neck, but said nothing.

"Yesterday morning, my daughter sits at the breakfast table with a smile for the first time in a long time. A search of her room revealed a single white rose. Next, she leaves ten minutes early, strange in itself. She then makes her way to Ichiraku Ramen, and buys three coupons. Later that day, you show up, and buy three bowls of ramen – using three coupons. Now, tell me again you have not disobeyed me?"

Naruto swallowed. He was in deep trouble. He glanced at Hinata, whose usually pale skin had paled even further. "Yes, father," she said, bowing her head, shaking slightly. "I-I disobeyed you."

Hiashi frowned slightly, before raising his hand.

He had intended to lift her chin, force her to look him in the eyes. Naruto, on the other hand, was used to being beaten around, and misread the action entirely. Jumping in front of her, he spread his arms. "No. It was my fault. I forced her. If you want to beat someone, beat me, but leave her out of it!"

He was greeted by the improbable – the stoic Hyuuga Hiashi stunned out of his mind. It lasted for just a second or two, before the man stood up. "You would volunteer to be hit instead of my daughter?" he demanded, towering above the six-year-old.

Naruto nodded fervently, and grinned widely, hoping to piss the man off so he would get this over with, and, hopefully, leave Hinata alone. "Why?" Hiashi finally demanded, crossing his arms, and staring at Naruto as if he were a particularly vile insect that had deigned to dirty his home.

Naruto swallowed in his dry throat, and blinked twice. Pain seemed to fill his chest as he realized his answer. "Why? WHY?" he demanded. "Because I'm used to it, that's why! I know how to take a punch. I'll heal. I'm tough. I can take it." He swallowed again, not wanting to let his tears fall, not wanting to admit that final weakness in front of this evil man, who had forbidden his daughter from being his friend. "Hinata-chan was kind to me. She smiled at me!" He glared up at Hiashi, not caring any more if the man saw the unshed tears in his eyes.

"She actually smiled at me! Only Old Man Hokage and Old Man Ichiraku ever smiled at me! She's my o – best friend! I won't let it happen to her!"

"Naruto-kun..." he heard a sigh from behind him, and glanced over his shoulder at Hinata, and gave her a watery grin.

"Don't worry, Hinata-chan. I heal quickly." He turned back to Hiashi, and silently glared at him.

Hiashi, in turn, just stared back. "You don't act the way I thought you would act," he finally said, and sat down behind his desk again.

"Huh?" Naruto asked. "Is there like some old-guy code? Why don't you make sense, Old Man?"

Hiashi lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "I'll have you know I am not of the same age as Hokage-sama, nor of the ramen chef."

Naruto's mouth fell open, not having expected that response. Having exhausted his repertoire of things-to-say-to-piss-people-off, he just stood there, gaping at the Hyuuga leader. "Now, Naruto, what would you do to defend my daughter from harm?"

"What do you mean, Old Man? I'd do anything, of course. She's my friend! Friends do that sort of thing for each other!" He blinked, and looked at Hinata. "Don't they?" he asked silently.

She nodded at him, never taking her eyes off him. He liked her eyes better than Old Man Hiashi's. "See? Hinata says so, too."

"My daughter is hardly the expert on friendships," Hiashi replied. "However, I commend the attitude. What if I asked you to take Hinata's punishment for her?"

"Father, no!" Hinata squeaked. "Please don't, father!"

_That_ pissed Naruto off. Hinata's reaction showed that, whatever her father did to punish people, was not pretty. "Of course I'll take Hinata's punishment in her stead!" he shouted, and pointed at Hiashi. "I've been attacked by worse, I doubt you can do worse than what was done to me in the past!" He was still hoping to piss the man off, get him to attack, and off Hinata's case.

"What if I told you that punishment for disobedience to a clan leader is death?"

"Father, no!" Hinata screamed, practically throwing herself at her father. "You can't! You can't!"

Naruto stared at his hands. Death. He'd never be Hokage, like his dream. He'd never have other friends. Never be a ninja.

But the beatings would stop. He'd never have to worry about food again. Nobody would rob his apartment, nobody would leave him penniless and without food. "Hinata-chan..."

It was enough to stop her shouted and pleading. "Naruto-kun?"

"Will you remember me? If I'm gone?" He looked up at her stunned face. "I... think I could do this... if you'd remember me..."

"Enough," Hiashi snapped, and Naruto looked at the man. "I am not going to kill you."

Relief flooded his system, and Naruto let out a breath he hadn't even known he had held. "You are not at all what I expected. Tell me this, Naruto. Why would you defend my daughter with your very life?"

He stared in the man's cold eyes, and found only a curious expression, rather than the cold look of a killer. "Because Hinata-chan is my o... my friend!" he shouted, before falling in on himself. "And my life is worth nothing... if I can give it to protect someone... at least it meant something..."

Hiashi stared shrewdly at the boy, who was staring sadly at his hands. "Tell me, Naruto, do you know why you are treated the way you are?"

The boy nodded. He looked at Hinata. Maybe he could scare her off. Obviously, her old man was a crafty bastard, but maybe he could scare her off, get some lenience from her father. "The Fourth... couldn't kill the Kyuubi," he muttered. "So he sealed it in his only son... me."

He heard a gasp from Hinata. "Is THAT why you told me not to be friends with him?" she asked her father, all traces of shyness and insecurity gone. It was such a drastic change that Naruto and Hiashi both stared at her, as she stood there, six years of female fury, with arms crossed, staring at her fully grown father as if he were an unruly child. The man just nodded, recovering quite easily from his shock.

Realizing what she had been doing, she blushed furiously, and dove behind Naruto's back, burying her face into her hands. "H-Hinata-chan?"

"G-gomen, father," she muttered.

Naruto held up his hands, as if asking, now what? He had been subjected to too many shocks tonight. "A-ano, Hinata?"

"Naruto-kun?" she asked from behind her hands.

When he said nothing, she peered cutely from between splayed fingers, and found him staring at her. "Y-you're not the demon," she said, about as convincingly as she could , kneeling, splayed hands in front of her face, blushing furiously, staring at him. "You're it's jailer. You'd never hurt me!"

He seemed to sag, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders, and smiled at her. "Thanks, Hinata-chan."

She smiled back. She really liked his smile.

"Ahem." A cough interrupted their staring and smiling, and focused their attention back to Hiashi, who looked at both children with an indulgent look. "Now, I would like to know why you would think your life worthless, Naruto."

He almost flinched at the glare his eldest daughter threw him when Naruto's smile vanished, to be replaced by the broken look he had sported earlier. "Apart from Old Man Ichiraku, and the Old Man Hokage, nobody ever cared about me," he whispered into the silence of Hiashi's office. "I was kicked out of the orphanage, Old Man Hokage had to get me an apartment. People kept breaking in and stealing my money. Sometimes I'd have to go days without food. People are always kicking me, beating me, hurting me. So I pay them back. As much as I can." he looked at his hands again. "The demon... it's inside me. It heals me. Without it, I'd have died, probably. Maybe it's best if I died." He blinked, apparently realizing where he was and what he'd said, and panicked.

So, he made a run for it.

Somehow, He'd escaped that Hyuuga compound without being caught again, and ran to his apartment. Disabling the trap on the front door, and the trap on the trap on the front door, he slipped inside, and closed it behind him. Sagging against it, back to the door, he curled in on himself. Why had he said that? Even if Kyuubi hadn't driven Hinata off, that display probably would have. Was he really so pathetic? He shouldn't have said those things.

He felt like crying. It had been long since he had cried. Crying usually made the beatings worse, so he'd learned to keep quiet – a quiet and unresisting target wasn't much fun, and the beatings had become shorter.

Finally, he stood up from his position against the door, and slowly made his way to the bed in the corner of the dilapidated apartment. He'd have to get up early for school. He didn't know if his alarm would wake him up tomorrow morning or not – it was old and he'd fished it out of the garbage, so sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't.

He hoped it would. It was doubtful he'd wake up in time otherwise. He was about to put on his pajamas when a knock came at the door.

Frowning at the door, Naruto was at an indecision to what to do. Well aware that he was alone, and that it was now well underway to becoming midnight, he thought about his decision now.

The knock sounded again. Sighing, he stepped to the door, thinking that it couldn't be worse than what had already happened to him tonight, he reached for the handle, disengaged the lock, and pulled it open.

Before he could say something, before he could realize who was at the door even, he was knocked back by something hitting him in the chest, forcing him three steps back before he managed to catch his balance. At once, he realized that whatever had hit him was also clutching to him, and he looked down to a bunch of dark hair, accompanied by almost hysterical sobbing.

"h-Hinata-chan?" he asked, his hands up in the air, staring at the girl hugging him, crying into his chest. "What's wrong, Hinata-chan?" he asked, not really knowing what to do with the crying girl. In reply, she clutched harder, making his eyes grow large, and forcing him to use more force in order to catch a breath. "It's alright, Hinata-chan. Don't cry." She only sobbed harder.

Looking up, he noticed that Hyuuga Hiashi was still present in his doorway. "S-Sorry," Naruto apologized to the Hyuuga clean head. "C-Come in," he invited, still struggling to catch a breath. The Hyuuga stepped over the threshold, and closed the door, eyeing the apartment with a critical eye. Although it wasn't nearly as bad as it could be, Naruto was well aware of the fact that this was far below any standards the Hyuuga would be accustomed to.

He shot the older man a pleading look once he focused back on Naruto, a look from the young boy that begged the man for help. Hiashi merely lifted an eyebrow.

A lot of things he may have done, but human contact and human companionship were not things he had any experience with, and a sobbing girl clinging to him even less so. Not knowing what to do, he gingerly put his hands on her shoulders. "It's alright, Hinata-chan. Don't cry. Please."

"B-b-but the t-things y-you've s-seen," she stuttered through her tears.

"I'm used to it," he replied with a gallant shrug.

This only caused her to squeeze harder. "Oomph," he breathed. "That's quite a grip you've got."

She immediately released him, blushing bright red. "S-Sorry."

Naruto looked slightly confused, as if he didn't realize why she would be apologizing. Looking at his rundown apartment, he wished it looked better. Not in the least, he wished he had some place for his guests to sit, but all he had was an old couch he'd found in the apartment when he took it, and a few rickety chairs he'd saved from the garbage somewhere. "Ehm... what brings you here?" he asked, hoping it sounded polite.

Hiashi raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. "You ran out on a very informative conversation," the man stated.

Naruto swallowed, and sunk into the old couch. To his surprise, Hinata sat down next to him, and latched onto him again. He shot her a confused look. Motioning for the rickety chairs, Naruto said "I would invite you to sit down... but I saved all of this from the trash somewhere, so I don't know..." he trailed off as Hiashi grabbed the nearest chair, and eased himself into it. The chair creaked, and wobbled slightly before Hiashi realized that the item was unbalanced.

"Sorry," Naruto whispered, sounding as ashamed as he felt. "Nobody really wants to sell stuff to me," he whispered. "I found most of these things."

Hinata just continued to hold him. When he finally looked up, he found the Hyuuga head stare at him, as if deep in thought. "Tell me, Naruto," he finally said, "do you hate us?"

"Hate you?" the boy asked, blinking.

"For the way we have treated you," Hiashi elaborated.

Naruto sighed, then shook his head. "I don't hate you," he replied finally, before balling his right fist, and staring at it. "But I will become Hokage one day, and make people accept me!"

The stoic face of Hiashi showed a faint trace of amusement. "If you want to become Hokage," he said, "you will need to work hard, every day."

Naruto shrugged. "I have nothing better to do. Before Hinata-chan, I had no friends, I don't have a family." He looked at his apartment. "This is a place I sleep. I can work hard."

The man seemed to study him again, before giving a faint nod. "And you will also need help. People to teach you. Nobody can get there on their own."

Naruto slumped. "I can't get food outside of ramen, let alone find someone to teach me," he whispered sadly. His left fist balled, joining his still-clenched right fist, before looking into Hiashi's eyes. "But I'll get there, alone or with people helping me, it doesn't matter!"

That eyebrow was rising again. Naruto, for just a moment, thought it was impressive how many different emotions the man could convey, simply by lifting an eyebrow. "You are quite determined."

"I am," Naruto said, nodding.

"Good. You will need it," Hiashi said, standing up. "Pack your bags."

Naruto blinked. "Huh?"

Hiashi eyed the apartment. "This is no place for a six-year-old, and tonight has convinced me that you are neither the Kyuubi nor a delinquent. I am forced to admit there is a fair amount of skill involved in the pranks you have chosen to play upon those that have earned your ire. As such, I have decided to shelter you within the Hyuuga compound. You will live with us, and you will train with us."

Naruto blinked again, then his face got a weary look on it. "What for? Why? And what would I have to do?"

Hiashi, for a moment, looked startled. That was no look for a six-year-old, no matter how articulate the boy may be. "It seems you do something that I have not seen since my wife passed away – make my daughter smile. And what you would have to do – that is simple. The Hyuuga are one of the greatest clans in Konoha. I will expect from you that you study diligently, achieve high marks in school, and bring honor to the clan."

Naruto didn't look convinced. "You won't make me cook, or clean, or do the laundry, or use me as a slave?"

Hiashi cocked his head. "I take it you have experience with this?"

Naruto shrugged. "It's why the orphanage kicked me out. I didn't want to do it anymore."

"I give you my word," Hiashi said.

Naruto sighed, and looked at Hinata. "Hinata-chan?"

"Please, Naruto-kun," she whispered, her Hyuuga eyes large and pleading. He swallowed deeply, unused to having such a pleading, pouting look directed at him.

The young boy looked wearily at Hiashi. "Alright."

00000 next morning 00000

Naruto was sitting at breakfast, practically trembling. He had no idea how to act, or what to do or say. In fact, this was the first time he had actually _shared_ breakfast with someone – even at the orphanage, he had usually been alone. As the bed he had slept in had been the most comfortable he had ever had, and that the food placed before him was the best he had ever tasted, he really didn't want to mess things up.

Skittishly, he looked from Hinata, to Hiashi, to Hinata's younger sister, Hanabi. He had practically jumped out of his skin when one of the servants had placed breakfast before him on the table. To his even bigger surprise, the woman had actually nodded to him when he said 'thank you'!

He kept eating, an early lesson in life telling him that he should eat whenever he got a chance, for he never knew when he could eat next. In fact, he had focused on his meal and his inner thoughts so much that he had almost forgotten there were other people at the table, and when Hinata moved, he jumped, one arm almost halfway around the dishes in front of him before he realized what he had been doing. Blushing, he dropped his arm. "S-Sorry. Usually, people try and keep me from eating," he muttered, but the others had still heard him.

"Really?" little Hanabi asked, big, white, eyes blinking at him. Naruto shrugged, then nodded.

"Nobody will steal your food here, Naruto-kun. I know it's a big change for you, but try to relax," Hiashi said.

Naruto swallowed, and nodded. "Thanks. And I'll try... Hiashi-san," he added on, as if trying to figure out how to address the man. It seemed that no longer being called 'old man' agreed with the Hyuuga clan head, judging from the almost-pleased-looking eyebrow that was lifted. Naruto still reveled in the amount of emotions the man could convey through the mere lifting of one eyebrow. Maybe one day he'd teach it to him.

"So you're going to be staying here?" Hanabi asked.

"Hanabi-chan!" Hinata muttered, going bright red.

"It's alright, Hinata-chan," Naruto said, and turned to the young girl. "Your dad was nice enough to let me stay here, Hanabi-san," he explain, almost using the informal _-chan_ suffix, but correcting himself at the last moment. He really didn't want to screw things up, and was trying desperately to keep himself from causing any scenes. Yesterday was probably bad enough...

"Since my mommy died, I only have daddy and Hinata-oneechan," the little girl said, staring at Naruto, as if it explained everything – and to Naruto, it did. This was all the close family she had, and she was protective of them.

Naruto nodded. "I don't have a mom or a dad," he replied, in a half-whisper. "Or a sister."

The girl looked shocked at that. "Then, who takes care of you?"

Naruto looked at his almost-completely eating breakfast. "Nobody," he said, sadly. "I've always been alone."

She frowned, obviously as deep in thought as a three-year-old could get. "And friends?"

Naruto looked at Hinata for just a few moments. "Before Hinata-chan, I had no friends."

The girl gasped at that. "And nobody took care of you?"

Naruto shook his head. "I used to think it was a mistake," he told her. "That I wasn't really alone. That my mom and dad would one day walk through the door, and say it was all a big misunderstanding."

The girl nodded, and stared sadly at Naruto. "Mom would be good and kind and beautiful," he almost-whispered.

"And a princess," Hanabi said, making Hinata and Hiashi blink. Naruto just nodded, and looked back at the little girl.

"And people would love her, and she'd ride in a large carriage."

"Pulled by white horses," Hanabi added in.

Naruto smiled wistfully. "And Dad would be strong and handsome, and people would love him, too."

Hanabi looked at her father. "I have such a daddy," she said, making the stoic Hiashi blink twice.

"You're very lucky," Naruto said, looking at Hiashi. "Your dad is kind."

Hanabi nodded as she looked at Naruto, then stood up, and walked to him. Naruto looked at her, unsure of what she was up to. To his surprise, she patted his shoulder. "It's okay now, Naruto-kun. I'll share my daddy and my oneechan with you."

Naruto looked up at the little girl, who give him a wide smile before going back to her seat. His voice broke. "Thank you," he croaked, doubting very much that she realized just how much those words meant to him. Hiashi may have offered him food and shelter, but Hanabi had given him something he had never had before – something he never though he would have.

A family.

He finished his breakfast even though he couldn't really eat anymore, and gathered up his dishes. "Er... where do I... ?" he asked, his voice still trembling.

"It's alright, Naruto-kun. The branch members will clean up," Hiashi said.

Naruto nodded. "Thank you. It was very good." After those words, he fled from the room, needing some time alone.

"Is something wrong with Naruto-oniisan?" Hanabi asked, not realizing what the matter was.

"Naruto-kun never had a family, Hanabi-chan," Hinata said. "What you said to him, it was probably something he never thought would happen."

Hanabi frowned. "I don't understand," she pouted.

"You offered to share your family with him," Hiashi explained. "You have probably realized that lonely boy's biggest dream."

"Oh," Hanabi said, suddenly making sense of things, and looked at Hinata. "How come Daddy can explain so much better than you, oneechan?" she asked innocently.

"Because father has more experience," six-year-old Hinata replied with a faint smile in her father's direction.

One could never accuse Hyuuga Hiashi of not having a sense of humor. Of course he would never indulge it in public, but in private, he had no such qualms. "Rather than give subtle barbs alluding to my age, shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

Hinata blushed bright red, eep-ed, and ran from the room. Hanabi crossed her arms, and pouted. "I wanna go to school, too."

"Don't you want to spend the day with your father? There are some very important clan documents that need reviewing," Hiashi said.

The little girl shook her head. "Those are _boring!_"

00000

Later that day, after school ended, Hinata was walking next to Naruto as they exited the school. It had never been so much fun, for either of them, as when they could be together. Hinata, despite being of the Hyuuga main family, was a very shy and timid person and didn't really have a lot of friends. And Naruto was... well, Naruto.

"Where are we going, Naruto-kun?" Hinata asked shyly, walking next to Naruto when he took the wrong turn.

Naruto gave her a wide smile, which she saw through immediately. He was worried about something. "I'm going to talk to the Old Man – I probably should let him know I've moved, too," he added in the latter.

Hinata just nodded, and remained quiet. When they reached the Hokage tower, Hinata turned to Naruto again. "You were talking about the Hokage-sama?"

Naruto nodded, grinning widely, genuinely. "The Old Man's nice," he said, taking the steps up the tower two at a time, forcing Hinata to sprint after him. "N-Naruto-kun! Y-you ca'nt just d-drop in on the H-Hokage-sama!" she panted when they reached the top level.

Naruto frowned. "Sure we can," Naruto said. "Follow me, Hinata-chan!" he said, taking her hand, causing her to blush with something other than exertion, and pulled her forward. Pressing a finger to his lips, he indicated for her to be quiet, and went down to hands and knees. Mutely, Hinata followed him.

They crawled pst the receptionist's desk, and Naruto expertly navigated them past the secretary before indicating that Hinata could stand up, and knocking on a huge door.

"Yes?" the Hokage demanded.

Naruto pushed the door to a slit, and peered in. "Do you have five minutes, Jiji?"

"Naruto-kun," the old man's voice sounded somewhat amused. "Yes, I have five minutes. And ten minutes, too, as it appears you vanished from your apartment."

Naruto pushed the door further open, and scratched the back of his head, while chuckling unconvincingly. He finally grinned, and dragged a blushing Hinata into sight and inside before closing the door. "jiji, I want you to meet Hinata. She's my first friend!"

Hinata, blushing from meeting the village's leader, was too shocked to notice how Naruto addressed the man. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hokage-sama," she said, with the perfect politeness that her father had drilled into her, bowing deeply.

"A friend of Naruto's is always welcome here," the Hokage said. "Please, have a seat."

Naruto stared from one to the other, back to the one, not really realizing why they were speaking so formally, then shrugged and decided it didn't concern him. He fell into one of the chairs. Hinata expertly and with complete control, lowered herself into the chair right next to Naruto, who was already lounging in his.

"I'm glad to see you're finally making friends, Naruto. And with Hyuuga Hinata, too."

Naruto nodded enthusiastically. "She's really neat, Jiji! She helped me escape from some Anbu the other day!"

The Hokage leveled a look at Naruto. "Any particular reason why you were running from the Anbu?"

Naruto swallowed, then looked unconvincingly innocent at the far wall. "I don't know nothing."

The Hokage nodded. "It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with some of them showing up, dressed in pink, would it?"

Naruto shook his head. "Nope."

"I thought so," the Hokage said with a faint chuckle. "Whoever did it, also did them a favor. Their security has been getting pretty lax."

Naruto smiled widely.

"Now, why weren't you at your apartment this morning?" the Hokage asked.

Naruto scratched his head. "You see, I... well, Hinata.... and then I.... and then Hiashi..."

The Hokage interrupted the stuttering six-year-old. "Perhaps you can start at the beginning."

"Hinata-chan saved me from those Anbu, and I couldn't just leave her as they were doubling back, so I took her with me, and we decided to be friends. But then Old Man Hiashi-" he interrupted as Hinata gasped, and he looked at her.

"Y-you shouldn't call father that," she whispered.

He shrugged, and the Hokage looked faintly amused. "So Hiashi didn't want us being friends, and told her not to be friends with me anymore." The Hokage nodded, sadly. "But she was my first friend, so I got into the flower shop after it closed, and picked out the most beautiful flower I could find. I left money, I knew they wouldn't sell ot me anyways, so this way was at least somewhat honest, right?"

The Hokage looked faintly angry, but nodded as Naruto explained about leaving money. "Anyways, I got into her house, and left Hinata-chan the flower. The next day, at school, she managed to get three Ichiraku tickets to me." He looked at Hinata. "You have to tell me how you got them into my book without me knowing."

"A-ano, Naruto-kun... when you tell me how you hid that... place we hid."

Naruto grinned. "Deal!" He turned back to the Hokage. "So I wanted to get her a thank-you note. But I got caught in the house, and Hiashi looked like he wanted to kill me."

"O-or me," Hinata added in a whisper.

As Naruto told more of what had happened that night, the Hokage saw how Hinata kept giving the boy sad glances. "But then, Hinata-chan and her father show up at my apartment. And then he asked me about my dream, about being Hokage, and how I didn't hate everybody, but wanted them to see me. And then he offered me to let me stay at his house. So that's where I've been."

Sarutobi, the Hokage, nodded. "It seems you have made a powerful ally yesterday, Naruto. Hyuuga Hiashi is an extremely influential man. I hope that you show him respect and gratitude for what he is doing for you."

Naruto nodded, and hung his head. "I am, Jiji."

"A-ano, Hokage-sama... N-Naruto-kun has been doing his best."

The hokage smiled at the girl. "I am glad to hear it. Now, Naruto, I have something to discuss with you Hinata. Could you wait outside for a few minutes?"

"Sure, Jiji!" Naruto said, standing up. "I'll be right outside, Hinata-chan. We'll walk to your house together, alright?"

Hinata looked up at him, and smiled. "It-it's your house too, now. Remember what Hanabi said this morning."

Naruto looked as if he were going to cry for just a few moments. "My house," he whispered, before grinning widely at her. "We'll walk home together," he corrected himself.

She smiled widely at him. "Yes!"

"You should smile more often, Hinata-chan. I like it when you smile," Naruto said, leaving the office.

As soon as the door closed, Sarutobi turned his attention to the smiling and blushing young girl. "I hope that nobody is playing games with Naruto," the old man said. "He is very dear to me."

"N-Naruto-kun is my friend," Hinata said. "I would never hurt him! A-and this morning, he made Hanabi talk about... about Mom. She's never talked about Mom before!" the girl was forgetting her shyness as she told about the events that morning. "And then Naruto-kun told her about not having any parents. Or friends. And having to take care of himself." Hinata, all of her six years of age, looked at the elder Hokage.

"Hanabi told Naruto-kun not to worry, because she would share her father and her sister with him," she finished. "Father allowed it. Naruto-kun has a family now."

Sarutobi smiled faintly. "I am glad to hear that, Hinata. Please, tell Naruto I am happy for him."

She stood up, understanding their little meeting was at an end. "I will, Hokage-sama."

00000 later sometime 00000

Naruto was standing in the middle of the Hyuuga dojo, facing a member of the branch family, while Hinata was standing off to one side. To be honest, she had expected this confrontation to have taken place earlier.

"So you are the rat Hinata-sama has brought in," the boy muttered, eyeing Naruto up and down, and obviously finding him lacking.

Naruto, used to being called worse, merely lifted an eyebrow in imitation of Hiashi. He had to admit, ever since coming here, the man had shown him more about antagonizing people than the young jinchuuriki had ever thought possible on the subject. "And who is a member of the branch house to call me a rat?" he asked, inwardly grinning at the stunned and outraged look that graced the young branch member's face.

"Neiji-niisan," Hinata whispered from the side. "Please don't do this."

"Hiashi-sama asked to protect you, Hinata-sama," Neiji declared, once more giving Naruto a once-over. "And I find this trash... lacking."

"What would you know about lacking?" Naruto demanded, starting to get angry for real now.

Brushing his hair aside, the boy bared his forehead. "this seal shows the suffering of the branch members. You do not know the first thing about suffering, and therefore, I find you lacking."

Naruto snorted, and lifted his shift. Lightly channeling some chakra, he made the Great Seal become visible. "I have one of those, too. Mine symbolizes the pact made by my father when the Great Kyuubo no Youko was sealed within me, a fate that has made me a pariah within the village that was supposed to see me as a savior and a hero," the young boy declared, finding eloquence in the lessons he had started to learn from observing how Hiashi told people off. He'd never admit it out loud, but the cold clan head was a source of never-ending inspiration to Naruto.

Neiji was silent for a few moments, digesting that. "This seal indicatd the subservience of the Branch to the Main family," he finally said. "Through it, they can hurt and control us. No member of the branch may go against the main family. That is our fate."

Naruto shrugged. "Fate shmate. Change your fate if you're not happy with it. I wasn't. That's how I ended up here, and my fate has been changed."

The other boy was silent. Finally, after long seconds of silence, he cocked his head. "Perhaps." He stepped back, into a Jyuken stance, the Hyuuga special hand-to-hand fighting technique. "but now I must test your ability to defend yourself."

Naruto lifted his fists. "You want to _fight_ me?"

"Yes," Neiji merely said.

Naruto nodded, and looked at Hinata. "Hinata-chan, could you wait outside? This bastard and I have to settle some things."

"Naruto-kun..." she said worridly, clasping her hands together.

"Don't worry, Hinata-chan, I'm tougher than I look."

Hinata merely looked worried as she shuffled out of the dojo.

It was almost an hour later when Hiashi came across his daughter, standing outside of the door leading to the dojo, pacing with worry.

"Daughter?"

"Father," the young girl replied. "Naruto-kun a-and Neiji-niisan are... f-fighting."

"And one of them asked you to leave?" Hiashi asked.

Hinata nodded. "N-Naruto-kun did."

"Good," Hiashi said, sliding the door open, and lifting an eyebrow at what he saw inside.

Barely two minutes later, Hiashi was carrying Naruto out, followed by a branch member carrying Neiji. Both boys were bruised all over, and obviously had no energy left to even stand up.

"You... did alright, streetrat," Neiji whispered from the arms that carried him.

Naruto grinning widely from Hiashi's arms. "You're not so bad yourself, teme."

00000 Hyuuga training 00000

"Let's see how far you are," Hiashi said, facing Naruto in the dojo. "Come at me with everything you have."

Naruto just nodded, and charged, almost like a bull would charge its target. Hiashi sidestepped the charge, and merely watched as the boy took almost three steps to stop his rushing momentum, and turn around. "That is why we do not charge. Your target can dodge, and you have lost the advantage, in fact, you turn your back to your enemy. Had I wished, I could have buried a kunai in your neck."

Naruto charged again, fists swinging. Hiashi sidestepped once again, and snapped a Jyuken strike at his chest, knocking him back. "Without my Byakugan active, I didn't close a tenketsu point, so it just hurt, didn't paralyze," Hiashi explained. "Don't just rush in with your fists swinging."

Naruto scowled. "I thought you'd be more powerful," Hiashi said then. "Considering your prisoner."

The boy erected himself, dropping his 'stance', what little of it there was. "You don't want me using my prisoner's power," he stated.

Hiashi lifted an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I was warned that the demon could try and influence me," Naruto replied. "Plus, I may not be in complete control, especially if I use a lot of it."

"I do find myself curious. Would you care to show me?" Hiashi requested.

Naruto glanced at Hinata, before looking back to Hiashi. "Very well." He sighed, and closed his eyes. "Junchuuriki zero-one – release of five percent, approved."

Power exploded around him, tugging at the floor of the dojo, forcing Hinata to step back all the way against the wall, and making Hiashi lift one arm to shield himself from the extremely hot air he could feel blasting off the boy. When Naruto opened his eyes, they were slitted, and glowing a dull, murky blood-red. His canines had elongaged, and the boy fell forward onto all fours, displaying the clawed fingers on his hand.

"Incredible," Hiashi muttered when Naruto charged him at an incredible speed. The man was an accomplished ninja, and dodged back in the nick of time, only being scratched faintly on one cheek; he activated his byakugan, allowing him nearly perfect 360-degree vision, and dodged the follow-up strike. Now Naruto was in front of him again, and Hiashi lifted one hand, timing his strike perfectly.

One finger struck Naruto in the middle of his forehead, immediately cutting off the flow of red energy, disengaging the horrific transformation, and knocking the boy onto his back.

"Aw," Naruto muttered, flatly.

"Your power is remarkable," Hiashi declaring, standing over the incapacitated boy. "But we will work on your control. Do not use that power again unless it is either vital for your life, or unless I have allowed you to do so."

Naruto swallowed. "No problem. I hate using that power."

Hiashi nodded. "Wise decision. We will start by working on your taijutsu. It is non-existant. Hinata. Stand in Jyuken stance. We are going to be educating Naruto in our style."

Naruto had to use a lot of effort to hoist himself to his legs. Whatever Hiashi had done to him, severely incapacitated him. "You recover quickly. I am surprised you are already able to stand," the man said. "We will start."

"Just one question," Naruto said, holding up his hand, and looking dismayed at how much it trembled with the effort required. "Didn't you say that, without byakugan, it can't paralyze?"

"That is true," Hiashi said. "But, it is an excellent basis for you to start with, and who knows, perhaps we can find an alternative way for you to use it."


	5. Shuttle 4 Bad Harry

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft four: Bad-Harry**

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Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: none

Timeframe: AU, age 8+

Last updated: 19th July 09

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"That's IT," eight-year-old Harry Potter declared, getting up off the cot in the cupboard under the stairs. He ducked low to avoid banging his head, braced himself, and launched a series of devastating kicks at the locked door of _his_ cupboard.

The door creaked, then groaned, before finally with a lot of cracking noise, releasing its grip and banging open. Stalking to the kitchen, Harry balled his fists. When he reached for the door of the refrigerator, the lights flashed on, and his red-faced uncle thundered into the room.

"Just what do you think you are doing, freak!?"

Harry spun to face his uncle, green eyes blazing. Two long strides, longer than was strictly natural for an eight-year old, was all it took for Harry to find himself nose-to-neck with his overweight uncle. "I'm getting some food, fatso. Got a problem with that?"

His uncle actually blinked twice, never having guessed that his normally soft-spoken and kind-hearted nephew could speak to him like that. Immediately after, the man's color deepened as his anger grew, and he lifted a beefy fist to show the ungrateful brat who was still the owner of this house.

The young boy's eyes flashed. The next moment, Vernon gasped for breath as the boy's right fist slammed into his stomach with more force than he had ever believed possible from an eight-year-old. Explosively, his breath was knocked out of him, and Vernon found himself on his knees, on the ground, gasping for breath.

When he finally regained his senses, and looked up, both arms holding his hurting stomach, he found Harry sitting at the table, wolfing down enough food to feed Dudley. For _days_.

"Good night, Uncle," Harry finally said, the glowing eyes having died down to their usual vibrant-green color, and the furious expression back to its meek and friendly self. He could only nod as the young boy walked out of the kitchen, and pulled the squeaking door closed to the cupboard.

That night, Vernon Dursley was the first in the world to learn a very important lesson.

_Never come between a hungry Harry Potter and his food_.

00000 First Year, just after Draco 'challenged' Harry to a deul 00000

"Harry, mate, why aren't you eating?" Ron asked, sounding quite worried for his friend.

"I'm fasting," Harry said with a grin.

"Oh? Why?" Hermione asked.

Harry glanced at Malfoy. "No reason..."

The next morning, the trio took their usual seats at the Gryffindor table, ostensibly, facing the Slytherin table.

"Hey look, Malfoy's got two black eyes! And why is he only eating mashed potatoes?" Ron asked, forgetting about his breakfast for a change.

Harry smirked. "No reason..." falnking him, Hermione and Ron shuddered.

00000 Fifth Year, After Department of Mysteries 00000

The entire DoM crew is sitting in Dumbledore's office, unhurt, although shaking like leaves, pale, and white. Behind desk, Dumbledore is also pale and shaking, and looking like he's seen death incarnate.

Bad-Harry's the only one unaffected. He's sitting in his chair, arms crossed, a terrible smirk on his face. "Bastard tried to possess me. I showed him it was a bad idea to try and posses Bad-Harry. Nobody possesses Bad-Harry. Bad-Harry is the possesOR, not the possessEE."

Dumbledore shuddered. He can still hear Voldemort's cries of anguish, pleas for mercy, and hellish screams as he died. Permanently. "I guess the Power He Knew Not was hormonal Imbalance..." the old wizard muttered to himself.

Bad-Harry stood up. "Well, if it's all the same to you, i'm going to bed." He looked at Hermione, Luna, and Ginny. "Who wants to join me?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and plugged his ears. He didn't need to hear this. Plausible deniability.

Because, he, too, had learned one of Bad-Harry's rules.

_Bad-Harry doesn't care about the rules. Ever._


	6. Shuttle 5 Harry and Vampire

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft five: Harry + Vampire**

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Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: Rosario + Vampire, some references to Toaru Majutsu no Index and Equilibrium

Timeframe: AU, end of Year Four

Last updated: 12 September 09

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00000 Third Task, what if it was Krum, and not Cedric, that arrived at the centre?00000

Harry stumbled into the centre of the maze, his leg twitching from where the gigantic spider had grabbed him. He looked back one final time. Three _Reducto_-spells to the head would have done anything in. He limped to the pedestal holding the cup.

"_Crucio!"_ a voice snapped from behind him.

A scream tore from his throat as he fell to the ground, twitching under the pain of the Unforgivable. Finally, finally, it lifted.

Still twitching, he managed to roll over to look at his assailant. Viktor Krum grinned sadistically as he calmly walked to the cup.

"I would've... just let you... take it," Harry wheezed.

"Dis vay, I am sure, Harry Potter," Krum declared coldly.

Harry scowled. He hadn't wanted to win. He hadn't wanted to participate, period – but using an Unforgivable... Harry's fingers curled around his wand, and he snapped a weak stunner in Krum's direction. The Bulgarian parried deftly; his skills were not in question. Meanwhile, Harry weakly stumbled to his legs.

"Zo now you vant to vight, Harry Potter?" Krum demanded, a dark gleam in his eyes.

"You used an unforgivable," Harry muttered. "And as its name implies-" he ducked under a silently cast _Reducto_. "I can't forgive that," he finished his spiel as he rolled across the ground, stumbling to his legs, and biting back the pain in his injured limb.

As the two boys fought, both circling each other, they also neared each other, step by inevitable step. Finally, Harry just threw a punch at Krum.

Years of being bullied by boys bigger and meaner than him came to the surface, and Harry dodged and weaved trough Krum's attacks and defences. Finally, he was in position, and made a mad grab from the Triwizard Cup, hoping to beat this international star – who used Unforgivables while nobody was looking.

Krum, seeing what Harry was doing, snapped out, using his Seeing skills to the limit.

Both boys touched the Triwizard Cup at the same time, and both felt the Portkey take hold of them.

Ten seconds later – _kill the spare _was followed by _Avada Kedavra_.

00000 Few days later 00000

A very defeated-looking Harry Potter was sitting in front of the Headmaster's desk. "I am truly sorry it has come to this, my boy," Dumbledore said to his student. "You must realize that Viktor Krum was an international star, and the circumstances of his death have led to a public outcry, which, in turn, has led Cornelius to take this unfortunate decision."

Harry sighed, and nodded. "To be honest," Harry muttered, levelly, as if he had lost all hope, "it is the fact that nobody cared enough to stand up for me that is worse than the banishment itself."

Dumbledore was silent for a long while. "It is indeed unfortunate that mister and miss Weasley, as well as miss Granger, would turn on you like that," he finally ventured carefully. Harry looked up sharply, before sagging, and nodding. He wanted to scream and cry, but somehow, the strength had left him. Friends would only abandon him again, just like there were no relatives that could ever be arsed to take care of him.

"Now that I've been banished, where will I go?" Harry asked the Headmaster. "I doubt I can just show up somewhere else, and they'll take me in. Durmstrang will lynch me for just thinking about joining them, and I doubt Beauxbatons will have anything to do with someone implicated with Krum's death." He turned away, and looked at one of Dumbledore's trinkets. "Even if I did save the annoying little sister of that floozy champion of theirs."

Dumbledore pretended to ignore the comment. "I have taken the liberty of enquiring for you, Harry. There is one school that would be willing to take you in for next term. It is located in Japan, hidden behind barriers more powerful than even Hogwart's own wards. It is called the Youkai Academy, and its Headmaster is an old acquaintance of mine. However, you must be aware,, it's syllabus would be comparable to what you would find in a muggle school, and it is frequented by... let us say, students of non-human origin. As a wizard, able to do magic, you are eligible to join it."

Harry sighed. "On the other side of the world, Sir?"

"It is currently, the safest place for you, Harry. Once the return of Voldemort becomes general knowledge, I have no doubt that you will be welcomed back with open arms."

Harry sighed, silently debating whether he would _want_ to return. Ignoring the thought, he looked at Dumbledore. "How about my magical education, Sir? You said that it would be like a muggle school."

Dumbledore nodded. "Quite right, Harry." he slid a book across the desk. It was small, about the size of a small pocketbook. "This is the Index Librorum Prohibitorum, the complete index of all 103,000 grimoires that were once forbidden by the muggle Catholic church. The magic contained within these tomes is quite potent. Obviously, it is in shrunk form, and as such, can not be read that easily. If you want to know about a particular subject, you can ask the index to reproduce the work for you."

To demonstrate, Dumbledore picked up the small book. "Index, shielding spells, threat level, low." The book glowed for a second, and Dumbledore slipped it to Harry, who thumbed it open, to find a listing of various shielding spells, complete with descriptions, wand-movements, advantages, and disadvantages. He nodded, closed the book, and stuck it in his pocket.

"I'm sure it will come in handy, Headmaster. Thank you."

Dumbledore nodded. "I wished there were something more I could do for you, my boy."

Harry shrugged. He didn't really want to voice his thoughts, about how he felt everybody had abandoned and betrayed him, and how little he ever wanted to set foot on British soil again.

00000 School bus 00000

Harry was sitting in the back of the school bus he had boarded an hour ago, back in Great Britain. It had passed through some strange tunnel, and emerged, somehow, in downtown Tokyo, Japan. Harry shrugged. Riding a bus down a tunnel was something he could handle a lot better than going through fire, or using Portkeys. At least it didn't make him feel like throwing up after he was done.

They stopped, and Harry looked up from where he was reading a nice little passage in the Index regarding summoning and banishing charms. An average-looking brown-haired brown-eyed boy entered the bus, and sat down near the front after throwing a look in Harry's direction.

It was obvious the boy was nervous, while Harry himself was rather pleased that, a, he hadn't been recognised, and b, hadn't been forced to 'make nice' with someone he had no intention of being nice to. He had tried having friends last time. They had betrayed him. Maybe it was time to try and stick to himself for a while. Less of a chance of being betrayed that way.

As the bus drove off, Harry thought back to his conversation with Dumbledore. Youkai Academy was a school for non-human beings, and Harry threw a shrewd look in the new boy's direction, wondering what kind of being he would be.

Harry broke out of his thoughts when the bus driver started talking to the newcomers. "Sir?"

The boy exited his own thoughts, it seemed, as he focused on the bus driver. "Are you a freshman at the Youkai Academy?" the mysterious man behind the wheel asked.

Harry smiled slightly. He had received the same question when he had just stepped aboard. Of course, _he_ had been addressed in English, and not Japanese, but Dumbledore's translation spells seemed to be holding. "Eh... yes," the brown-haired boy replied nervously.

"Then you'd better prepare yourself," the man said on an ominous tone. "It's quite a terrifying place!"

Before the boy could ask what that was about, his cellphone rang, and Harry smiled slightly. He turned back to his Index. The book was turning out to be very valuable in the amount of magical knowledge it held. He tuned out the one-sided conversation the boy was having with his cellphone.

Not two minutes later, they entered another tunnel, the same kind that had brought Harry from England, and he smiled slightly when the other boy's cellphone connection was cut off. They were now travelling to the Academy, he surmised. According to Dumbledore, it was located behind a powerful barrier, in something of a parallel dimension.

Hence why its protections were more powerful than Hogwarts'.

When the bus pulled up next to a pumpkin-headed scarecrow, both Harry and the as-of-yet unknown other boy disembarked. "Watch yourselves, young men," the bus driver warned, and Harry shook his head when he noticed the man's eyes were glowing. _What a cheap trick,_ Harry thought to himself as he started walking, ignoring the sputtering nervousness of the other boy, who was staring at the scarecrow – and the reddish-tinted lake.

It really _felt_ like another dimension, and Harry smiled wider. Maybe this would be a good place to start anew. As he walked to the Academy, he walked through the graveyards that seemed to surround the place, and Harry was reminded quite forcefully of the 'Forbidden Forest' surrounding Hogwarts. It appeared this forest could actually kill people. He smiled slightly. The place was looking more and more interesting.

He arrived at the school with no further problems. Tomorrow, school was to start.

00000 school issues 00000

Harry was still chuckling as he entered the forests surrounding the school. He needed some time and privacy to check out his Index, to find a way to cast some detection spells or special vision spells, or whatever the Index held that would allow him to find out what was going on with this weird school and it students.

As he had suspected, his teacher, Ms Nekonome, had given a small speech about hiding form humans, and staying in human form, and so on. He had tuned out most of her speech, focusing instead of that weird boy, whom he now knew was called Tsukune, who had been on the bus with him. He was probably the only one of the students who had noticed that the boy ahd become ever more scared as her speech progressed. When someone had made a comment about eating the humans that crossed the school's boundaries, it looked as if Tsukune would actually die by heart-attack.

He hadn't, of course.

Harry had let his eyes roam. No matter what kind of creatures they were, the human form of a lot of the girls was just plain breath-taking. And being an ordinary teenaged male, Harry hadn't felt the need stop his wandering eyes. The human forms of these girls were gorgeous, cute, stunning, and all other complimentary adjectives.

As he leaned against a tree in the forest, he took out his Index. "Index, spells for looking through glamours, beginner's level."

The book glowed blue, before shifting slightly in his hands, and Harry opened the cover to start to read.

Ten minutes later, his reading was interrupted by a female scream. For a few moments, Harry debated to let the scream slide.

A second scream tore through the air, and Harry cursed to himself. He really couldn't use a saving-people-thing, the way his ex-friend, Hermione Granger, had flung in his face. He closed the Index, took out his wand, and cast a spell on his glasses.

The clear glasses shifted for a moment, before clearing once more. Harry blinked furiously for a few moments, adjusting to the overlay that suddenly appeared over his vision. It settled almost immediately, and he drew a deep breath. The spell was temporary and it would have to do for now.

He started walking to the sound of screaming, thinking about his future if he couldn't let a person be hurt.

When he emerged near the pumpkin-headed signpost, he could see a giant Orc about to smash Tsukune, who had obviously interposed himself between the Orc, and the pink-haired green-eyed beauty that was also in their class.

What was her name again? Harry had been too busy to focus on her... other attributes... rather than her name.

He flung his wand. "Petrificus Totalus," he snapped, hitting the orc right in the back.

It froze, instantly. His glasses reported some strange readings, however.

"You really are an idiot," Harry said, walking to the front of the orc. "First you want to eat humans, then you go after your classmates."

"Thank you, Harry!" Tsukune shouted, stumbling to his legs.

Harry shrugged. "I didn't do this for friendship, Tsukune," he said back, as cold as he could. "I just don't like people screaming, that's all," he added, trying to make it sound anything other than saving a person. As he was turned to Tsukune to deliver his speech, the spell on his glasses reported problems.

Harry had just enough time to stare dumbly at the orc as its fist smashed into his stomach, practically lifting him off the ground. "And you are an idiot to turn your back on an enemy that's not defeated!" the orc shouted, throwing Harry aside.

The next scream came from Tsukune, who received similar treatment, causing the pink-haired beauty to run to him. Harry chuckled, looking at the tableau from where he lie. Of course. Being a bad ass means nobody cares...

"Even if you're a vampire," Tsukune muttered to the girl, "I still like you, Moka."

_Vampire?_ Harry thought. _Moka! That's her name!_

As the guy's hand slipped off her shoulder, it grabbed hold if the rather large rosary that hung in the middle of the girl's chest, tearing it off its chain.

The spell on Harry's glasses overloaded, and broke. Not that he needed to see into the supernatural to see what was happening, as the girl's body changed, the aura she exuded changing completely, almost overwhelming him, resonating deep within his magic. It felt... glorious. Intoxicating.

In front of his eyes, the girl transformed, becoming a little taller, more rounded, her long pink hair turning to silver, and her green eyes glowing blood-red.

Harry crawled upright as the unsealed vampire started trashing the orc. When the vampire finished, and she turned to Tsukune, Harry new that his presence was no longer needed.

"Harry," he heard, the female voice cold, harsh, and demanding. He turned on the edge of the forest. "Moka?" he asked.

The silver-haired released vampire cocked her head at him. "You don't fear me."

Harry wanted to laugh at her. He didn't. "I have been hunted by people who wanted to kill me for as long as I know. It takes more than power to scare me," he replied. "You have power, but you don't want to do me harm. So, why should I be scared of you?"

She stepped up to him. "You are powerful," she stated.

Harry shrugged. "And you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He smiled slightly, before turning to the forest. "Now we both know what the other thinks about us. You should see to Tsukune. A human isn't as... resilient... as we are."

He had vanished before she could formulate a reply. The vampire threw one last look into the woods, a little confused with the way Harry had addressed her, and picked the rosary off the ground, attaching it back to its chain. Her powers sealed, and her personality submerged in favour of her human disguise, Moka took Tsukune's head into her lap and waited for him to wake.

00000 Beginning training 00000

A few hours after the event with Moka, Tsukune, and the Ogre that used to be a classmate, Harry was sitting alone in his room, the Index on his lap.

_I got my ass kicked out there. I need to get stronger. Fast. _Glancing at the Index once more, he drew a breath and thought about his order to the book.

"Index, comprehensive training program for mind, magic, and body. Threat level, high."

The book flashed blue, and Harry started to read.

_A comprehensive and all-inclusive training program for an undertrained wizard of fifteen years of age. Classification is high, potential for injuries is high, non-permanent._

_Before an under-trained wizard starts training, he or she should be aware of two spells that will allow for rapid assimilation of coarse material and physical training. These spells should not remain active for more than fours hours per group of twenty-four. Risk of permanent injuries rises exponentially after the initial four hours. The body and mind should then be allowed to recuperate, ideally for at least twenty hours, to bring the total number of hours a day to twenty hours recuperation and four hours of accelerated training and study._

_The first spell is _Cogito Ergo Sum,_ a spell that will increase mental agility and acuity, as well as expand memory and cognitive abilities. It will provide a near-photographic memory, and increase the general intelligence level by twenty to thirty percent above the usual level. _Caution:_ this spell accomplishes this by overcharging the neural capacity of the brain of the subject. Leaving this spell active for over the generally safe period of four hours might result in a drop in general intelligence level, memory problems, retention problems, and loss of mental faculties. It is recommended that the practitioner apply this spell with caution, starting with on hour, and increase with ten minute increments with progressing sessions until the four-hour period is reached._

_The wand movements for _Cogito Ergo Sum_ are thus:_

Harry looked at the picture of the moving wand-tip. Taking his wand, he duplicated the movements, and whispered the spell.

Immediately, he realized what he had done wrong, cancelled the spell, and re-cast it, this time with a small extra added twist to the end of the final loop. He now realized that his first casting had been met with moderate success, but the second time, he had performed it flawlessly. A small smirk spread on his face, as he read at speed through the section of the spell, committing it to his memory.

_The second spell is _Nos morituri te salutant, _a spell which will increase the physical agility, strength, and endurance of the body, as well as speed up accumulation of muscle memory, enabling the subject to gain speed and strength rapidly, as well as commit movements to automatic reactions in faster times. Training underwent while under this spell will result in rapid response. _Caution:_ this spell achieves its results by overcharging the nerves, muscles, and spinal cord. Leaving this spell active beyond the safe point might result in permanent loss of muscle-control, and in extreme cases, will result in the subject becoming a paraplegic. It is recommended that the practitioner apply this spell with caution, starting with on hour, and increase with ten minute increments with progressing sessions until the four-hour period is reached._

Harry smiled, and read at speed through the rest of the training schedule, finding it quite interesting to see that the mental abilities spell now allowed him to speed read, taking less than a minute to commit a page to memory before he could skip to the next.

Before he could commence his training schedule, however, he decided to first make sure that his course work was out of the way, and so he took the first schoolbook he could lay his hands on, and started committing it to memory.

He finally realized what time it was by the time he had finished his second schoolbook, and realized he had been busy for almost three hours and forty-five minutes. Luckily, before the four hours was up, but way longer than the one hour recommended by the Index. He cancelled the spell, and grit his teeth when he was hit by the mother of all headaches.

He crawled into bed, and hoped it would pass.

00000 Meeting Kurumu 00000

Harry walked into school a couple of days later, testing out the new and permanent charm he had placed on his glasses. All it had taken was a couple of runes inscribed carefully into the rim. Of course, he had no idea what the runes meant, but the Index had shown an excellently detailed picture of them, and Harry was nothing if not efficient in copying stuff.

He pressed the side of his glasses, where the so-called Control Rune was placed (or so the Index said), and he nodded to himself in satisfaction as a magical overlay activated itself on his glasses.

He frowned slightly when he saw a blue-haired girl from his class saunter by, followed by over two-thirds of the male student population of the first year classes. He blinked at what his overlay was telling him, even as the girl approached him and gave him the most dazzling smile he had ever received, especially from a good-looking female.

As her fingers trailed over his cheek, he became aware that a small, red-tinted word was flashing on the overlay of his glasses, but he ignored it. If the goddess before him wanted him to join her, who was he to ignore her? He took two steps, then blinked, his awareness flashing to the red word.

_Charm._

He blinked again, his mind trying to clear itself. She was trying to charm him? What was wrong with being charmed? And why were his glasses making such a big deal about it? She was only asking him to join her. And besides, it wasn't as if he had so much experience with good-looking girls that actually wanted him.

He looked at the other males. They were obviously deficient. Why else would she ask him?

Best of all, he had an entire day to look at her, carry her books, and even sit with her during lunch. Of course, he had been forced to – surreptitiously, of course – stun a few of the others so he had better access to her.

When he finally made it back to his dorms that night, the obnoxious red flashing word had diminished slightly.

He frowned; why was that word still there? He took out his Index. "Index, search 'charm' in combination with permanent Mage Sight engraving on glasses."

The book glowed blue, and Harry opened it. What he read made his blood run cold.

He had been charmed. And the type of charm that was practically an Imperious mixed with Veela Allure. Almost impossible to resist, especially as it was not picked up as mind control in most cases, and it took very specific detection methods to overcome it. The downside was, eye-contact had to be established before the victim could be charmed.

He remembered looking into the girl's eyes. Her endless, bottomless pools of – he blinked, and wrenched his thoughts away. He needed to break clear of her compulsion, and he needed to do so _now_.

"Index, mental protection spells, potions, and abilities, threat level, high, codewords, impenetrable defences."

The book glowed once more, its contents shifting to what Harry requested.

He glanced at the contents. This was going to take all night, it seemed. And be wrought with danger.

Harry shrugged. Danger he could handle.

00000 Harry + Witch 00000

Kurumu had seemed quite put out the next day when Harry completely ignored her and her 'Charms'. He couldn't really feel any kind of malice form the girl, just the sort of misguided beliefs that could only come from intense loneliness. He didn't know what she was, although he had quite a few suspicions, but decided that, as long as all she did was make cow-eyes at him, he'd ignore her. It was better than he'd had at Hogwarts, after all.

He didn't know what happened in the days after that, but Kurumu dismissed her entire following of boys, and started spending an inordinate amount of time following Moka and Tsukune around. Glad to be left alone once more, Harry went through the rest of the day, to retreat to a secluded spot in the forest to train.

First casting the spell to improve his mental abilities, he enabled himself to retrieve, verbatim, the Index's training schedule from his memory. He followed it up by casting the physical improvement spell.

Stepping to the centre of the small clearing, He conjured four wooden training posts, two in front of him, left and right, and two behind him, forming a perfect square around him. Brandishing his wand, he sat the training posts in motion.

Between themselves, they would determine a random sequence, causing a red-coloured ring to glow, providing a target. To make things difficult, the ring would move up and down, force Harry not just to aim for the random post, but also for the random height of the ring on the post.

Casting stunners for an hour left Harry breathing deeply, and sweating nicely. It was a nice workout, and marvellous to get rid of the stress of every-day school life. When he made to vanish the posts, he noticed that he was not alone.

His mysterious visitor seemed to be young, about eleven or twelve, dressed not in the Academy Uniform. "That was incredible!" the girl shouted excitedly. "Are you a wizard? Can you teach me to do that?"

Harry frowned, and vanished his posts. He didn't want to start up a training group. He had enough trouble getting himself in shape. "Yes, I'm a wizard," he muttered. "And no, I won't teach you to do that."

"Come on!" the girl shouted, grabbing his arm, and plastering herself to it. "Please? Us halfbreeds have to stick together!"

Harry froze, nearly throwing her to the ground. "_What..._ did you just say?" he demanded, voice utterly devoid of emotion.

The girl took two steps back. "We're... humans... right? With abilities? Not real demons? Like the others?"

Harry clenched his hands. So she was a witch. "Never use that word around me," he declared, and started walking again. His post-training good mood had vanished. Dimly, he was aware of the girl following him.

"Where are you from?" she asked him, five minutes later, after they had almost left the forest.

"Britain," he replied, coolly. Being a bad-ass was hard work! Why wouldn't she leave him alone?

"Really?" she asked, excitedly, pushing on. "I always wanted to visit Europe! What school did you go to? Did you got a magical school?"

Harry sighed. "Hogwarts," he muttered, feeling the pain of the rejection sting.

The girl fell silent, and Harry wondered if he had finally gotten rid of her. "You went to Hogwarts? One of the Big Three of European Magical schools?"

Harry shrugged. "What about it?" he asked, now actually feeling as cold as he was pretending to be. "It's a crappy school. Horrible students. Worse teachers. Bastards." he flung around to face her, and the girl physically shuddered at the look in his eyes, and stumbled two steps back. "Never talk to me about Hogwarts again," he told her, spun around, and strode off.

"If I do, will you teach me something?" she asked, sounding tentative from his side. "My magical schooling is limited... mostly my father and mother have tried to teach me..."

He sighed, and berated himself. "Fine," he finally said. "Half an hour a day, got it? I have my own training to take care of!"

"Of course!" she shouted excitedly. "Half an hour a day! Thank you, Master Harry!" she physically lifted her up by his arm, planted a kiss on his cheek, and rushed off, almost as if she wanted to make sure he couldn't change his mind on her.

"Hey!" Harry yelled after her. To his surprise, she actually stopped and turned to face him, looking sheepish. "Will you at least give me your name?" he asked.

"Yukari," the girl replied. "Yukari Sendo, Youkai Academy's resident genius!" she added primly, grinning widely in his direction, before turning and racing off.

"Great," Harry muttered. "Another Hermione. Just what I needed."

The next day, after classes were out, Harry was walking to what had become his spot in the forest surrounding the school. Why it was just a forest, and not a _forbidden_ forest, the way the forest surrounding Hogwarts was, he would never know. The place was riddled with graves, and even in those few weeks that he had been here, he'd witnessed more disappearances of students than he'd witnessed at Hogwarts. It seemed that standard procedure to resolve differences at Youkai Academy was to a, go into the forest (and thus, no longer on school grounds), b) release the demonic form, and c) beat the crap out of each other.

Crossing his arms, he let his thoughts wander to the test results that were returned today. Differently to Hogwarts, Youkai Academy posted all students' results on the announcement boards, letting people compare among themselves – but also meaning that, if you did bad, your humiliation was spread out for all to see.

Maybe it would have been a good way to motivate some of the lazier bastards at Hogwarts, or maybe not. He reached his spot, and was about to cast his favorite two training spells, when he heard a scream go through the forest.

Having been here a few weeks, he was getting quite good at ignoring screams and pleases, but this scream sounded familiar.

He sighed.

Yukari. He _had_ promised to teach her a few tricks he had learned at Hogwarts. Groaning to himself, he started jogging in the direction of the sound.

Three reptilian-like creatures had Yukari surrounded, the young witch holding on to the handle of what used to be a wand with two trembling hands. He grunted. They had broken her wand. And were three-to-one, ganging up against an eleven-year-old girl. Who, without a wand, was just an _ordinary_ eleven-year-old girl.

Granted, he had seen first-hand how obnoxious she could be to those who ignored her. (He _had_ to learn that snap-conjuration spell she favoured. Having a heavy pot appear in mid-air to clobber a person on the head could be quite useful.)

He snapped a petrification at the left reptilian creature, forcing its arms and legs to snap together and topple over.

"Three-to-one against a little girl," Harry declared, stepping up to the altercation. "You must feel like real monsters."

"Why you!" the middle creature screamed. "For breaking the rules, she has to be punished!"

Harry snapped a stunner at him, but to his surprise, his opponent managed to duck, and came straight at him, forcing him to roll away. "Get her!" the creature yelled to his last standing compatriot, making him rush after Yukari, who was still on her knees.

Forced to deal with his way-fatser-than-normal opponent first, Harry cursed under his breath until he heard a scream.

The creature he was fighting stopped, and Harry risked a look over his shoulder, to see the second able creature, with a claw stucking halfway through Tsulune's chest.

The boy had thrown himself in front of Yukari, and had been impaled for his trouble.

Harry cursed – literally and figuratively – and his opponent's head vanished into a fine red spray. Turning around, a slashing hex severed monster and claw, before a second hex took off its head. Harry was in no mood to play along.

Deep inside, he felt sick about killing. On the outside, he had no time to ponder it. Tsukune, released to gravity now that Harry had cut off the claw, fell over sideways, one hand clutching at anything to keep himself upright. It hooked on Moka's rosary pendant, releasing it from its chain.

Harry didn't know where they had come from, but he was still grateful to them for trying to help Yukari – even if Tsukune got seriously injured because of it.

"Index, Emergency-level healing of life-threatening injuries," he snapped at his book, making it glow blue before he opened it, and skimmed the text. Raising his wand, he snapped the mental agility spell, enabling him to remember it more clearly.

"We need to take him to the nurse," the now-released Vampire Moka declared.

"No," Harry said. We need to take him to my dorm room. If we can get him there in time, I can heal him." He closed the Index. "Index, best way of transporting a critically injured person." The book glowed once more, and Harry snapped open its cover. Two seconds later, Tsukune was Transfigured into a ring.

"Rings don't bleed, and don't die," he said, taking the ring from where it had fallen, and slipped it on his finger. "He's practically in stasis now."

He turned, and started jogging.

"Just where do you think you're going!?" Moka demanded, the Vampire appearing before him, stopping him.

"To my dorm room, as I said," Harry replied, coldly, refusing to be intimidated. Granted, her aura was powerful, but he had come face-to-face with a Basilisk, and a Vampire wasn't about to scare him. "And right now, I'm his best chance of survival."

She stared at him for a few seconds. Seconds he spent, staring back. Finally, she nodded, and stepped aside, letting him pass. He started jogging again. He felt Moka fall into step next to him. He heard Yukari, sniffling, yet keeping silent, fall in behind them.

They reached the domrs in silence, and Harry opened his door. When it became apparent that they were about to follow him in, he turned to the two females. "If you come in, you will remain seated where I tell, you will not move, you will not speak, and you will do nothing that will hamper the magic I am about to work. Is that clear?"

"Just who do you think you are, to order a Vampire?" Moka demanded.

"I am the man who is about to save your friend. And if you do not wish him to die, you will do as I tell you to do," he snapped back. She frowned, then nodded, and remained quiet. He looked around his room, and started waving him wand, clearing a large centre space. "Sit on the bed," he told them, after he had pushed it completely against one of the walls.

He threw a look at the clock, then closed his eyes, to call up all relevant information in his mind, before conjuring a round table. He put the ring down on the ground, and released the Transfiguration on Tsukune. Taking the blood from the wound, he started drawing on the table, first a circled pentagram, then runes around the circle as he balanced for time, date, constellations, and the required angelic invocation he would need.

Next, he conjured a number of small boxes of various sizes, and placed them over the bloody circle. Moka and Yukari noticed that the boxes took up positions of his desk, dresser, bed, and various other cabinets spread across the room. Smaller objects took places of various books that had been levitated into a corner upon their entrance. Finally, Harry conjured four small figurines, each a miniature representation of the people present in the room – Harry, Tsukune, Moka, and Yukari. He placed them accordingly. The two girls noticed that, in the end, the small objects for the books and various other objects were actually _placing themselves_ as the magic started to work to complete the miniature representation of the room.

This was where it got interesting for Harry. He remember with perfect clarity the warning in the Index. _Failures or mistakes in this spell will cause a burnout of the caster's nervous system. Use with extreme caution._

He closed his eyes, and brought his hands together to start his chant, focusing on the mental images described in the Index. Slowly, as he chanted, the room, indeed, the vary building, started to shake, and Yukari looked around fearfully. Moka tried to look stoic, trying to hide the fact that she, too, was getting nervous.

Finally, he stopped his chant, and bumped against the table. The shaking of the room stopped, before a small earthquake shot through it. "Link successful," Harry muttered, half to himself and half to his small audience. "The temple on the table and the room have been linked successfully – whatever happen in one, will happen in the other," he added, as if to re-verify the specifics of the spell to himself.

"Here we go," he muttered, again closing his eyes and focusing on the mental images required. _I need to summon the Angelic power of Healing. Required is a golden angel, form of a child, two bright white wings. The Angel's name is Helheim. _He re-started his earlier chant, and focused on the mental images of the angel Helheim, summoning its healing powers to earth.

The bloody design on the circular table started to glow bright blue, and both Yukari and Moka felt something slice right through them as power focused over Harry and the temple on top of the table. Smoke started to rise from the chest of the Tsukune-figurine, and at the same time, so did smoke rise from the real-life Tsukune's chest.

Barely 30 second later, Harry stopped his chant, panting deeply, even as Tsukune already sat upright, trying to figure out where he was, and how he got there.

"You are still the most powerful wizard I have ever seen," Moka declared as she stood up from Harry's bed and made her way to Tsukune.

Harry shrugged. "And you're still beautiful," he replied casually, causing her to throw a startled look in his direction. He shrugged, then started to clean up, even as Yukari kept staring at him with open mouth and obvious stars in her eyes, and Tsukune couldn't stop thanking him – as did the resealed Moka.

00000 the cliff 00000

The day after he healed Tsukune, Harry sat atop the cliff overlooking the huge lake that bordered the forest and school grounds. He'd spent the day dodging Moka, Tsukune, Yukari, and even that strange blue-haired girl, Kurumu; He got the point – they were grateful he saved the boy. Unfortunately, _they_ didn't get the point.

He didn't want friends.

Sighing to himself, he stared at the lake. Before going to Hogwarts, all he had was himself. Nobody would be his friend, not with Dudley on the loose. His only friend was his imagination, and he recalled spending hours with his eyes closed in his cupboard, imagining the most extravagant voyages, far, far away from the Dursleys.

And then, his Hogwarts letter had come, and a whole new world had opened for him. Hagrid, the kind half-giant, bless his heart, had been the first one to be _nice_ to him. No matter what he did, or asked, he hadn't been hit, or yelled at, or made to go into his cupboard without food.

And then he'd seen the Hogwarts express, and he just knew that, no matter how elaborate his imagination had been, _this_ reality was stranger than he ever could have imagined.

And that's where he had met his first ever friend, Ron Weasley.

That he prat was narrow-minded, bigoted, mean-spirited, jealous glutton had not been important at the time... and it didn't matter for a long time afterward.

And then he'd met his dorm mates, and he finally felt as if he might find more than one friend.

It was on Halloween that he'd saved Hermione Granger, who'd become his second real friend. That the girl was an overbearing control freak with delusions of inadequacy didn't matter any more than Ron's true nature.

No matter how hard he wished for it, the friendship with the others in his dorm just never happened the way he'd wanted. And nor did it matter, for he _had_ friends, two of them. Or so he thought, at least. Not even Snape's wonderful attempts at destroying his life could keep him from seeing Hogwarts more than a home than the Dursleys. The Poltergeist, Snape, bigotry of Malfoy and his ilk, then closed-mindedness of the teachers were hardly of more important than the true natures of Ron and Hermione.

When, each year, he had to fight for his life, slowly, he started to realize that Hogwarts was _not_ the finest magical institution in the world.

It was merely the only one available to him.

Harry sighed again. He didn't jump when the shadow he had felt for a while sat down next to him. He glanced over. The shadow was a girl of his age, with unusual purple hair – but then again, he'd seen Kurumu's blue, and Moka's pink hair, so he hardly batted an eyebrow. Slowly sucking on a lollipop, the girl stared out over the waters next to him.

Realizing that she was just as alone as he was, just as hurt and damaged on the inside, he averted his head, and resumed his staring. To be alone, together, sounded just fine to him.

It was an instinctive kind of rapport, the sort of rapport he had always thought he'd have with Ron and Hermione. The kind of rapport he had worked and tried so hard to achieve. He knew that he had put up with a lot more than anyone else would have put up with, simply for the sake of that elusive friendship that he wanted so badly, but never really got.

And that was why the rejection at the end of last year had hurt him so badly.

And that was also why, he would never allow himself to be hurt that much ever again, and why he would never try so hard again to have friends, companionship. It was also why he would keep Tsukune and the others at arm's length.

After all, if they didn't reach him, they couldn't hurt him.

When the sun was finally setting, he stood up. The strange girl stood up as well, and for a second, they stared into each other's eyes. Without saying a word, Harry turned, and started walking to the male dormitories.

Behind him, the strange girl turned, and walked to the female dorms. She looked over her shoulder one final time, and nodded to herself when she saw no more of him. _Finally someone who understands..._ Mizore thought to herself.

00000 Harry's new friends 00000

Harry was sitting alone, eating his lunch, as per usual. Suddenly, he looked up when a shadow fell over him, and a small form sat down across from him.

"Yukari?" he half asked, half demanded his 'apprentice'. She did learn rather quickly, and she left him alone when he was training or experimenting himself, so he had developed some sort of tolerance for the girl.

"Why don't you sit with us, Master Harry?" the 11-year-old genius asked, motioning for a table not far away where Tsukune, Moka, and Kurumu were enjoying their own lunch.

"Because I'd rather eat alone?" he replied with a lifted eyebrow.

"But why?" she asked, frowning cutely in a futile sign to understand.

He looked at the girl, and for a few moments, debated with himself on whether or not to destroy this girl's respect and trust in humanity. He sighed. "Listen, kid," he muttered, making her frown angrily, but she did remain silent and listened. When Harry pulled the age card, she had learned the hard way to listen to him. "People are evil. Having friends means having a target painted on your back, because one day, one way, they will betray you." He stood up. "I don't need friends. I used to think I did – but that was before they all decided to stab me in the back and betray me. Why do you think I came to Youkai Academy, from halfway around the world?"

Not giving her a chance to reply, he took his tray, turned around, and dumped the leftovers of his food in the trash, and left.

Yukari sat there, stunned at what Harry had said. It took her nearly thirty seconds to reboot her brain, and she took her tray and sat down with Tsukune and the others, her face showing her anger. "It seems everybody betrayed him, making him run halfway around the world," she told the others. "So of course he's afraid of being betrayed again, and doesn't want friends."

"But... why?" Kurumu asked. "Why did they betray him, I mean," she added when everyone stared at her as if she lost her head.

"I don't know," Yukari said. "I only got as much out of him as I did because he lost his temper. I guess it's a soft spot with him."

"Maybe I should talk to him," Tsukune said thoughtfully, looking at the door.

"You can try," Yukari replied. "But I don't know how much it'd help. He's been hurt deeply." She then looked thoughtfully at Moka. "But maybe the other Moka could help."

"What?" Moka asked.

"He seems fascinated by the other Moka," Yukari explained. "He keeps calling her... you... her... you know who I mean, gorgeous."

Kurumu smiled widely. "That's right! And she keeps calling him powerful!"

Moka toyed with her rosary. "I don't know... the other Moka can be..."

"She's still you," Tsukune replied. "Maybe we could try?"

Moka sighed. "After school?"

"After school," Tsukune said with a small smile.

After classes ended for the day, Harry was kicking his legs against the cliff upon which he sat; the conversation at lunch had bothered him for the rest of the day. On one side, he shouldn't have blown his top against Yukari, but on the other hand, the wounds made by his former friends still hadn't really healed.

To his surprise, the same girl sat down next to him again. Again, they didn't speak a single word, although he noticed that she looked at him a few times when his heels made an especially hard thump against the cliff-side.

After about an hour, he stood up. The strange girl stood up as well, and looked at him. He looked right back, nodded, and turned. Not looking back, he vanished. Mizore nodded to herself, then turned to walk out as well. He had understood. Hopefully, he knew that she understood as well.

As he walked to his usual training grounds, hoping to relieve some stress, he stopped and drew a breath. Looking over his shoulder, he looked at Moka walking toward him from the side. She was in her released form, which was how he had been able to feel her coming. Calmly, he turned to face her, and awaited her arrival.

"Wizard."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Vampire," he replied. He noticed her red eyes crease just a fraction in amusement.

"Follow me," she stated.

"Why?" Harry asked, crossing his arms and looking faintly amused as the crease along her eyes turned from faint amusement to faint anger.

"Because I said so."

"I don't think so," he shot back. "The time I did what I was told like a good boy has long since vanished."

"You will join myself, Tsukune, Yukari, and Kurumu," she told him.

"Again, that's an order, not a request, nor an explanation," he replied. "Again, I ask, why?"

"I am a Vampire," Moka stated. "Strongest among the S-class Super Demons. Know your place!" she yelled, grabbing his ear, and starting to pull.

He had no choice but to follow as she dragged on his ear. He snapped out his wand, and bit off a curse, forcing her to release him and step away from his spell, and doing so with remarkable grace, poise, and speed. "You're still too powerful for your own good," she stated, a faint tint of respect in her voice. "It is not many who dare stand up to me."

He shrugged. "You're still beautiful, even more so now that you're angry. And after standing up to an insane Dark Lord, or a sixty foot Basilisk, you're not all that frightening."

He noticed her eyes narrowing, and shrugged apologetically. "Sorry," he added blankly.

She snorted once. "I find it hard to believe you have faced a sixty foot Basilisk."

He lifted one sleeve and showed the puncture wound of the fang. "It's fang went in here." he turned his arm over. "And came out there. I was lucky to have a Phoenix there to heal me."

Her angry poise changed to one of shock. "You are telling the truth," she then stated, as if confirming a fact to herself. "I would see why you think yourself able to stand up to me."

"I could see why I don't just think so, but am able to do so," he expanded.

She snorted in amusement. "Very well. You have asked why."

"Yes."

"You have saved Yukari. You have saved Tsukune. You broke Kurumu's charm, but did not retaliate, understanding that she meant no real harm. You obviously have great power, yet are able to wield it wisely. From what you shouted halfway through the cafeteria at lunch, you have been hurt in the past. Allow us to help you as you have helped us."

Harry cocked his head. "I have no need for friends. Having friends means having weakness, and I have no intention of ever having that particular weakness again."

"I thought the same way. Which was why I hid myself and allowed the other Moka to take my place. However, since meeting Tsukune... I have been force to re-evaluate my opinions," Moka said, sounding as if he were pulling her fangs out, without anaesthetics.

"It sounds hard for you to admit," Harry replied. "I used to think the same way. I don't know if I can... allow myself... to change my opinions." He turned to face the forest, staring at one of the trees. "Last time nearly destroyed me. I don't think I am strong enough to survive a second time."

To his surprise, the released vampire stood next to him. "I understand. However, I have been asked to bring you, and I do not wish to fail my mission. Will you join us willingly, or shall I have to drag you, kicking and screaming?"

He looked at her, mouth opening to reply, when he noticed the faint note of humour in her blood-red eyes. "If I say kicking and screaming, how much physical contact would be involved?"

His reply shocked her, obviously, but only for a second. "Not enough to offset the incredible amounts of pain."

He sighed. "Fine. I'll come willingly. Far be it for me to cause you to fail your... mission."

"Good," Moka said, turning to walk away, expecting him to follow. "Because if this talk did not help, and if the threat of a beating did not work either, I would have been forced to release my ultimate weapon to get you to comply."

Harry, jogging two steps to fall into step with her, lifted an eyebrow. "Ultimate weapon?"

Moka nodded. "Yukari can be very tenacious once she starts pleading, and I do not think even you could ignore her forever."

Harry shuddered, feeling as if he had dodged a bullet.

00000 Advanced Training 00000

His feet throwing up dust, Harry came to a skidding stop out of his fast, low, spin. His chest pumping as he drew in deep gulps of breath, he stood up, and surveyed the little training clearing he had appropriated during the start of the school year.

The training posts were smashed to pieces, the results of several high-speed, high-strength blasting curses.

"Damn," he muttered to himself.

"What's wrong?" Yukari asked, as by magic appearing from behind one of the thicker trees now that the sounds of training had passed.

"I've completed my first level training course," Harry muttered absentmindedly.

The little witch frowned. "What do you mean? Isn't that a good thing?"

"It means," Harry muttered, as he turned to walk away, "that I need to think." Yukari frowned slightly, and let him go, knowing from experience that Harry preferred to work things out by himself. Over the last two months that they had been friends, Harry had learned to come to them if he needed help with something, but sometimes, some issues he just had to work out for himself.

Ten minutes later, he was sitting on top of the cliff, overlooking the water, and remembered with perfect clarity the words from the Index, burned into his mind thanks to his mental agility spell.

_Congratulations on finishing the first level of the training schedule. If you have made it this far, you are in the top five percent of magic-users, able to use your wand and body for defence and offence, as needed._

_The second level of training, advanced training, will require you to acquire a second wand. The advanced course will transform a magic-user into a Cleric. _

_The Clerics were, and are, the highest level magical fighters, able to use wand and body to its limits. As shields cover areas, rather than target specific spells, and all spells travel in a straight line once cast, it is mathematically possible to predict the course of incoming and return fire, as well as cover the body. However, as the Cleric's arts are based upon mathematical predictions, a Cleric is able to dodge incoming fire in ways that make the Cleric seem almost supernatural. _

_To be a Cleric, one needs several spells that must become second nature._

_The first spell is a Clear Sight spell, enabling the Cleric to see in a perfectly spherical, 360-degree view, thus enabling the Cleric to predict, dodge, and return fire as necessary. WARNING: this spell, when over-used, will damage the optical nerves of the Cleric, resulting in loss of eyesight, and eventually, blindness. Do not overuse, and only use when the situation requires it. In most cases, the Cleric's arts of prediction are sufficient to dodge out of the way of spells that are coming from the back._

_The second is a ambidexterity spell, and will enable the Cleric to use two wands simultaneously. As you have finished the first level of training, you are bale to cast silently. This spell will enable the Cleric to cast with both left and right hands. With sufficient training, a Cleric will also be able to cast simultaneously, keeping two spells in mind at the same time – or, if required, cast two spell-strings at the same time. This spell will permanently and irrevocably, change the natural pathways within the brain of the target. Make sure the target is not naturally ambidextrous, as this spell will override that and impose its own structure._

_Contrary to natural ambidexterity, this spell does not remove the fact that one hand will be dominant and one hand will be submissive._

_The third is a spell-string, eight spells linked together through sound and motion, one flowing into the next in a natural fashion. This spell-string is of a decisively offensive nature._

_The fourth is a spell-string, eight spells linked together through sound and motion, one flowing into the next in a natural fashion. This spell-string is of a decisively defensive nature._

_The fifth is a spell-string, a collection of twelve spell linked together through sound and thought and motion, each allowing the Cleric to reposition before the next. This spell-string is comprised out of highly powerful spells, each taking a substantial amount of power to cast. WARNING: use of this spell-string is recommended against a single opponent, as a generally, a Cleric will not have sufficient power nor willpower to cast a second spell-link simultaneously, and will, more than likely, be completely focused upon this target. _

_Further in the advanced training course, an aspirant Cleric will be trained to create their own spell-links, as a known spell-link is a weak one, and can, with proper preparation, be overcome quite easily._

Harry stood up. The strange girl hadn't come today. Or perhaps she _had_ come, and he'd missed her with all of his thinking.

He turned to walk to his dorms. He had some more thinking to do. Where could he get a second wand from?

00000 A new wand 00000

The next day, during lunch, Harry was sitting with the others – he had soon learned that Yukari wasn't going to allow him to sit by himself anymore, so he plied to the inevitable. Today, however, he was even more quiet than usual, staring glumly at the table as he shuffled his food around on his plate, trying to work out how to solve his problems.

"Harry?" He blinked twice, and looked up sharply, staring at the faces of his new friends, all of them staring at him.

"What?" he asked, not really understanding why they were staring at him.

"Sheesh, you were really deep," Yukari breathed. "I had to call your name three times before you'd listen!"

He shrugged. "Sorry," he said, not exactly sounding it.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" Kurumu asked.

Harry sighed, and drew his wand. Spinning it around a few times, he placed it on the table. Tip-down, in a vertical position. He let it go, and everyone stared at him again when the wand remained perfectly upright, balancing on its tip as if it stuck to the table. "This."

"Your wand?" Yukari asked.

"Not this wand, exactly, but _a_ wand," Harry said, pushing his tray away, crossing his arms on the table and letting his chin make contact with them. Staring at his upright wand, he added, "For the next stage of my training, I need a second wand. I can make one, or so my Index tells me, but I'll need two substances. The first is the wood – there's plenty of trees in the forest, so wood doesn't seem like a problem. The second is a core. I need a magical substance to act as a core. The problem is, there aren't any here. And I can't exactly get up and walk into a magical shopping area to go and buy some."

"What do you need? Maybe I can help," Yukari offered, beating the others to the punch.

"let's see," Harry said. "Wand-cores can be made out of different magical materials, I only know of a few, though. The answer I got from the Index was helpfully lacking in any wand-core materials. In Brittain, most wands use Unicorn Hair, Dragon Heartstring, or Phoenix Feathers." Frowning slightly, he recalled the Triwizard Tournament. "I know a witch in France who uses a Veela Hair wand-"

"Veela hair!?" Kurumu screamed.

"Eh... yes?" Harry offered.

"Vile, disgusting, impostors," the succubus muttered. She reached up, grabbed a chunk of her hair, and gave it a yank. Which followed by a small yelp, but a detached chunk of hair. "here, Harry. Genuine Succubus Hair. Way better than those half-avian impostors." She continued to mutter under her breath about Veela trying to encroach upon the 'turf' of the Succubi.

"Eh... thanks, Kurumu!" Harry said with a big grin, pulling out his Index. "Index, cross-reference..."

"Hang on, Harry," Moka said, smiling at him. "What can you use of a Vampire?"

Harry blinked. "eh... I don't know..."

"Oh, I know!" Moka pushed on. "Maybe some blood will help!"

Harry blinked at her a few times. "I do think you'd need to be in your released form for that, though. And I don't know how much the other Moka would be inclined to help me."

Moka waved it off. "Just keep telling her how pretty she is."

Flushing bright red at the chuckles coming from Yukari, Kurumu, and Tsukune, Harry muttered, "Eh?"

"She likes you, Harry!" Moka said, smiling widely. "So, how about some blood?"

Yukari pouted. "I want to help, too."

"Let's see if the Index will give me a more straightforward answer this time," Harry said with a faint smile. "Index, cross-reference, Succubus Hair, Vampire Blood, wand-core, threat level, high."

The book glowed blue, and Harry opened it, his eyes starting to shine. "That's more like it. A table of materials, and what they're good for. Let's see... hey, it seems you can combine multiple wand-cores, but then it gets unstable, and the wood needs to meet specific requirements, and has to be enchanted specially." He looked at Yukari. "Want to help me with a little enchanting project?"

The small witch stared at Harry. "You... you're going to tech me how to enchant objects?"

Harry shrugged. "You know me, Yukari. I'll give you the spell, the notes from the Index, and let you figure it out for yourself."

The young witch smiled widely. "Thanks, Master Harry!"

He groaned. "How many times have I asked you not to call me that?"

"Not enough times," Yukari replied with a cute grin.

"How about Tsukune?" Kurumu asked.

Harry looked at the boy, who now looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Due to Tsukune's unique... physiology, I don't think he could help," Harry said, making the boy look intently at him. "I'm sorry, Tsukune."

"Tha – that's all right," the boy replied.

Harry nodded, and looked down at the Index. "All right, so – Succubus Hair, and Vampire Blood." he flipped a few pages, and started muttering to himself, halfway loud enough for the others to hear him. "_Suspension of Succubus Hair in Vampire Blood, magical refraction index of thirty-two, a deformation of five percent in the upper two percentile of the energy curve. I will need beech or oak to contain it, and use either a class-three or a class-two containment enchantment..."_

Harry looked up. "This is going to be a very cool wand," he said with the biggest grin his new friends had ever seen.

Suddenly, a form emerged from underneath a nearby table, startling everybody at the table. "Maybe... I can help, too?" said the strange girl who Harry had seen on top of the cliff multiple times.

"Mizore?" Tsukune asked.

"You know her?" Harry asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"So do you, apparently," Tsukune said with a small grin.

Harry shrugged. "We usually stare at the ocean together. I don't think we've ever spoken." He turned to the girl. "So, Mizore, huh? Cute name."

The pale girl flushed slightly. "Thank you."

"Can I ask... what are you?" Harry asked. "if you want to help, I'll need to look up how you can help."

"_Yuki Onna_," the girl whispered.

"Snow girl, huh?" Harry said with a faint smile. "Neat." he looked at the Index again. "Hm... it says here that you have claws?" he half stated, half-asked.

The girl nodded, and suddenly, large icy claws shot from her oversized sleeves. "Cool," Harry muttered again. "A clipping would be nice. It'll enhance the power of the Succubus Hair and Vampire Blood. I'll definitely need oak now, and a class-two or even a class-one enchantment to contain it. It'll be very powerful for combat magics, but I'll need my original wand for the more finely controlled stuff."

Mizore had no problems giving Harry a few clippings from her icy claws. To his surprise, they didn't melt when she clipped them off. She shrugged at his gaze, then made to leave. "Why don't you sit down?" Harry asked, pointing to an empty seat next to him. "After all, with all the time we have spent on top of the cliff, we're practically best friends."

She looked intently at him, before smiling slightly, dipping her head, and sitting down in the offered seat. "There, much better than lurking under that table... or behind a tree... or a trash can... or shrub..."

Mizore looked up at him. "You knew?"

Harry shrugged. "When you have people out to kill you, you learn to pay attention to your surroundings."

"And you don't think..."

He placed a finger against her lips, shutting her up, and making her blush at the same time. "Like me, you are damaged, Mizore. Your faith in others has been damaged. You dealt with it differently than me, but it is not mine to judge."

"You _do_ understand," she whispered.

He nodded, ignoring the startled looks of the others. "I do. And so do you."

She merely nodded, and Harry looked back to his still tip-down wand, the Succubus Hair, and the Yuki Onna claws. He'd wait for Moka's blood until the evening set, and he could place it directly into his new wand's core. He could hardly wait to feel the power of it.

00000 creating the wand 00000

Night had fallen, and the only light came from a superluminens-charm Harry had affixed to the ceiling, causing it to give off a permanent glow that created perfect lighting conditions inside his room. Once again, the furniture had been placed against the walls, allowing a single round table to be in the centre, upon which were the various materials Harry required for his wand.

First, a full foot of oak had been magicked into a perfectly round wand-like construct, the centre of which was totally hollow. A small oak plug was also there, which would cap the wand after the core had been inserted. The various materials required for the core were arrayed around the wand materials, including the Succubus Hair and the Yuki Onna claws.

Harry looked up from his preparatory work. "Moka, I will need the Vampire Blood now," he said, drawing his wand in preparation for the wand-core creation spell. Yukari read the enchanting formulae one last time, preparing to help Harry with the permanent enchanting required on the wand the moment he inserted the core and plugged the wand.

The pink-haired vampire nodded, and looked at Tsukune. The boy reached out, and removed the rosary from its chain, unleashing the inner Moka personality and power.

The now silver-haired formidable vampire stared at Tsukune for a few moments, before moving her gaze to Harry. "You want my blood, Little Wizard?"

Harry smiled faintly. "Your other self volunteered, Vampire."

She cocked her head. "It is infuriating that you do not fear me."

His smile grew slightly. "I think it's rather flattering, how you keep flirting with me."

Moka snorted. "Why should I flirt with you?"

Harry shrugged. "I have it on the advice of a wise and powerful man that men should not attempt to figure out the ways of women. I chose to heed that advice."

The Vampire smirked, and slunk closer to him. "That was good advice. However, I am no mere woman."

"You may be a Vampire, but you're still a very beautiful woman, Moka."

She blinked. "And I think you need to stop flirting with me, as well."

"I never said you should stop," Harry returned easily. "I was merely pointing your attention to the fact that you _were_. However, we are here on other bussines."

Moka stared into his eyes, her red-glowing eyes drilling deep into his green ones. "You are correct, of course. You want my blood."

"I was offered your blood," Harry replied. "And as it would indeed be very helpful, I chose to accept."

Moka nodded once. "My blood will not help you, Wizard."

"My name is Harry, Vampire. And why would your blood not help me? According to the materials I have at my disposal, Vampire Blood would be extremely helpful..."

"You are still only a Wizard, Wizard. Never forget your place. And my blood will not help simply because it will not. You are not a Vampire. You will not understand."

"Then explain it to me, Vampire."

"You have gall, Wizard. Not many would dare demand information from me in such a manner."

Harry grinned slightly. "I have explained this before. You do not scare me."

Moka chuckled darkly. "Fine. You want my blood, Wizard? You will need to _earn it!"_

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "How?"

"I will give you my blood. You have one chance in three," Moka said, starting to circle him. "First chance – nothing happens. Second chance, you turn into a brainless, mindless ghoul, bent on destruction, and I put you down. Third chance, it will bind to you, and enable you to use my blood in your wand. Do you take this challenge?"

Harry smirked. "Fine. I do not fear danger. I have undergone many dangerous experiments and spells since starting here, enhancing my abilities and my skills. I do not fear doing so now again."

Before he realized what had happened, Moka was right behind him, her one arm locked around him, virtually incapacitating him, making him realize just how fast and powerful she was – and just how little chance he had against her, and how much he had been playing with fire. Her second hand tilted his head, and he gasped, then tensed, when he felt her fangs slip into his neck.

Rather than draining his blood, she was placing her own inside his bloodstream.

As she released him, Harry sunk to one knee, gasping for breath, reaching for his injured neck, finding no more evidence than a large hickey. "What... have you done to me?" he gasped at her, ignoring the startled looks from Kurumu and Yukari, and the rather blank look from Tsukune.

"I have pumped some of my blood into your bloodstream," the Vampire said. "We will see its effects in the next few minutes."

"Next time, warn me before you do shit like that," Harry said, standing up, glaring at her.

"Or what?" Moka said, grinning, her fangs still stained with his blood.

Harry blurred, appearing right before her, his wand pointing straight in between her eyes. "Or I will blow your head off."

The look on Moka's face could only be described as 'shocked' as she stared into a faint red glow in Harry's eyes. "You have bonded to the blood," she muttered. "Faster than I thought."

"Remember how I had my physical enhancement spell active before starting this?" Harry asked, lifting his wand so it was pointing to the ceiling, but not stepping outside of Moka's personal space. The Vampire nodded.

"Well, it also helps when foreign magic or abilities impact my body. The spell recognised the blood, and what it could do to me, and integrated it into my system. I'm not a full Vampire – I am, however, not an ordinary person anymore, either."

Moka grinned ferociously. "You keep gaining power, Wizard."

He chuckled. "And you are still beautiful, Vampire."

"Very well, I shall gift you my blood," Moka decided, opening her mouth, and curling her lip against one of her fangs. Somehow, seeing a beautiful vampire sensually nick her lip on her fangs caused him enough distraction to almost miss the blood he needed for his wand.

Waving his wand about, gathering the core-materials, he gave a small nod to Yukari, who lifted her own wand, ready to assist Harry in the enchanting. With a final twirl, the core materials merged, forming a gelatinous ball of an inconsistent colour, before moving over to the hollow wand. The mass deformed, slowly entering the pre-made space. Yukari started whispering as Harry lifted the plug and stoppered the wand's handle, sealing the core into the wood for eternity, and setting in his own stream of enchanting.

It took ten long minutes, where the wand deformed first one way, then the other, only to be corrected by the incessant stream of enchanting from Harry and Yukari, the little 11-year-old witch living up to the reputation that got her accepted into a high school at age eleven.

Finally, they broke off simultaneously, the enchanting done. The oaken wand now looked as black as the depths of space, with a solid band of runes wrapped around the base of the handle in a metallic deep-grey.

"That's it," Harry muttered, drawing a breath. He looked at the other, lifting a rather surprised eyebrow at the fact that Moka hadn't gone back to her ordinary form yet. For a few moments, he smiled thankfully at Yukari, the little witch smiling back at him, before looking rather impatiently at the wand.

Harry drew another breath, and reached out for it. Everyone there had the impression that the wand wanted to roll away, even though it remained perfectly still. Harry himself had the same impression, and his hand halted halfway to the table, before he pressed on.

When he reached it, and his fingers curled around the handle, it was as if the wand wanted nothing to do with him, and when he lifted it, a solid wave of magic reached out, dispelling the superluminens charm that had been providing their light.

Now suddenly in semi-twilight, it looked as if the tip of the wand glowed an angry, murky red, and everyone, Harry including, had the impression that the wand was most definitely not happy to be where it was right now.

Over the next few days, Harry came to the conclusion that he most definitely wasn't growing on his new wand – as it kept refusing to work properly. One moment, it charged his spells to ridiculous power levels, where even a simple stunner could burn a hole through a tree, and the next, it refused to do anything, period.

00000 end of year trouble 00000

"What do you mean? Of course Tsukune's human," Harry replied, much to the shock of the three girls standing before him.

"How did you know that!?" Kurumu demanded.

"Ever since I broke your Charm, I've kept a detection spell active. I've known who and what you were since then," Harry said with a shrug. "So, now, tell me, why are you girls freaking out over this, and where are Moka and Tsukune?" Just because they weren't his friends didn't mean he didn't care. He glanced down at his right hand, which had balled into a fist. They were _not_ his friends. He didn't _do_ friends anymore.

Right?

"They were captured by the Student Police," Yukari said. "Tsukune for being a human, Moka for helping him."

Any further explanation levelled off as a series of pops signalled Harry's fist clenching so hard his knuckles popped. "What did they do?" he asked, voice level.

Too level. The three girls could feel an undertone of coldness permeate those words, a coldness that reverberated through their very bodies.

"T-they couldn't do anything," Yukari whispered, suddenly not sounding so brave anymore. She, more than the others, knew just how powerful Harry had become – and how powerful he was still _becoming_.

"We were all captured," Kurumu said, her usually confident tone a lot more subdued. "When they found out we knew nothing, they let us go."

"I see," Harry said. "And they didn't come after me because I am not a real friend." He drew a breath. "For once, somebody is getting hurt not because of anything I did." He glanced at the ceiling, staring at it, as if it were holding all the secrets of the world. "Fine. It seems I am still a stupid Gryffindor at heart." He walked to the door of his apartment, and threw it open. "I'm going to launch a little rescue party. Those of you who want to come, follow me."

As he started stepping, he wasn't surprised to hear no footsteps following him.

After all, this was a _demon_ academy, one that barely tolerated witches and wizards, a normal human was actually forbidden to enter. The punishment for such a crime... was death.

He didn't look back when the patter of feet reached him, telling him that Yukari was racing after him. Two other footfalls joined her, and Harry repressed a smile when he realized that both Kurumu and Mizore had followed as well.

"I'm going to keep the Student Police busy. You free Moka and Tsukune. Get him to release her seal, I might need the real Moka's help." Much to Moka's chagrin, he had started calling her alternate self 'the real Moka'.

He heard no reply, but assumed just a trio of nods. As he reached the Student Police building, the building housing the dungeons and the torture chambers for those breaking the rules – or not paying the required bribes or 'donations'.

Closing his eyes, he lifted his Holly wand and cast the two spells to enhance his mind and body, before tapping a spot on his forehead. The Rune of Regeneration sprang into being, the glamour keeping it hidden dissolving under his influence. He tapped it a second time, priming the Rune for action.

Having channelled his excess magical power into the Rune would enable him to tap into that well like a storage battery, allowing him access to vast reserves of stored power.

The downside was that he would be channelling much more power than his core usually handled, and would risk a burnout of his magical pathways.

"You girls know what to do," Harry muttered, his devoid of emotions as he readied himself for battle. His mind split along familiar lines, allowing his right- and left hemispheres to each keep hold of a Spell-Link, and thus permitting him to cast, simultaneously, two different spells, from two different wands, in two different directions.

"I don't think I will allow that," the smooth voice of the head of the Student Police said, as he dropped from the skies in front of the small group.

A small group which suddenly found itself surrounded by no less than a dozen other members of the Student Police. Kurumu released her camouflage, allowing her wings and tail to come out, and lengthening and sharpening her fingernails, while Mizore transformed into her Yuki Onna-state, large claws of pure ice materializing along her lower arms.

Yukari merely lifted her wand.

"Girls, do what I told you," Harry muttered to them, before stated out loud, and levelly, "The first one to move, dies."

The three girls took a step back from him, before making a run for it – toward the Student Police building. Indeed, there was one member who moved.

Dropping into his Cleric-stance, Harry's holly wand spat magic.

_One spell – two spells – four spells – eight spells, Link Complete._

The guy disintegrated into fine mist when the eighth spell hit. Nobody else moved, staring at the boy as he resumed a ready stance. "I told you not to move."

Kuyo, the Student Police Head, scowled viciously. "Don't just stand there! Get him!"

Apparantly, they were more afraid of him than of Harry, as the group of eleven remaining Student Police members charged Harry, who closed his eyes, cast the 360-degree-vision spell, and entered a trance. His Holly wand shifted from his right to his left hand, before his right hand dug for his new wand.

Again, the wand fought him, he could feel its magic trashing against his, refusing to be cowed, refusing to be subjugated, and refusing to be broken. Snapping the verbal command for his Rune of Regeneration to start cycling energy, he started casting.

The style, designed to combat humans or other wand-users, had not been tested against almost a dozen demons, and as such, it had some fatal shortcomings.

For one, it didn't take into account the _speed_ with which they attacked.

As Harry's vision dimmed, his mind retreated further and further away from full consciousness, allowing ingrained reactions and instincts to take over. His vision shifted, removing all colour and unneeded distractions, showing only green targets and red paths of attack, areas to be avoided.

As he ducked and weaved through the field of red, he started casting Link after Link of spells, one after the other, as fast as he could hope to, counting on the cycling energy of his stored wells to keep himself fuelled.

Eight spells – link one – sixteen spells – link two – thirty-two spells – links three and four – sixty-four spells – links five, six, seven, and eight...

The speed increased, the precision increased, and the power increased. His right hand, his dominant hand, with his unstable and refusing-to-give-in new wand, caused him no end of trouble as his spells kept missing or failing or breaking up.

He compensated marvellously with his left hand.

A burning sensation flowed from his forehead, the Rune of Regeneration kicking into level two.

Power, untapped and unchannelled, was recycled straight from his aborted and failed spells, the energy from the surrounding area, the energy of battle, every erg of power that was hanging in the air was drawn in by the Rune and channeled into Harry's fighting system.

As the jolt of energy hit him, and Harry's hand clenched hard around his right wand, he finally felt something... give.

Kuyo took a step back as power seemed to _explode_ from the boy that had been fighting his force to a standstill. A horrible screaming and screeching noise could be heard, and for a moment, Kuyo could determine no less than three different voices intermingled in the cacophony of sonic energy.

Harry, meanwhile, finally felt the _power_ of his wand defer to him, allowing for the first time for him to command and wield its power. Had he looked at it, he would have seen the grey runes lighting up a pale yellow.

Finally able to use his style in a non-crippled form, Harry switched to the Spell Link the Index had determined to be 'unusable' due to 'too high power requirements'.

_Block to the right with the left wand, cross over with right hand and kill an attacked from the left. Shield with left hand to the left, kill attacker from the right with right hand. Duck underneath swipe. Kill with right hand, blocked new attack with left hand. Kill target to the let, block from the right. Dodge back, two steps. Kill attacker. _

Kuyo stared with almost open mouth as the boy suddenly s tarted _slaughtering_ his forces.

Harry's mind burned, the blackness deepening its hold on his thought-processes. The redness indicating potential directions of fire started decreasing, even as his speed increased. Runes of power falshed through his vision then, stringing together into sentences, his mind making up new and evermore potent spell links as he progressed with his decimation of enemy forces.

Finally, only one, big, blotch of green remained.

A final target.

Kuyo's eyes were big when the boy snapped to a standstill, the wand in his left hand trailing smoke, the one in his right hand actually trailing fire, even as that burning, intense, green gaze was focused upon him.

"Now, now, Harry. You do realize that this is a deeply treacherous act against the Academy, don't you?"

Harry's lips curled back, pushing himself forward once again. Now that his targets had vanished, taking their power with them, his Rune of Regeneration was petering out.

It was worrisome. Now he had to delve into his personal reserves. This was going to _hurt_.

His arms waving over, around and through each other, never once impeding the other's movements, his two wands started spitting spells at Kuyo; his enemy laughing as he dodged.

And kept dodging.

Deep in his mind, a small counter raced upward at a harrying pace. _Two links. Four links. Eight links. Sixteen links. Thirty-two links. Sixty-four links. One-hundred twenty-eight... links..._

Falling to his knees, gasping for breath, his entire store of magical energy depleted into a single, continuous barrage of spells, Harry could do little more than glare at his enemy.

"Truly well done, Harry!" Kuyo said, chuckling. "I never would have guessed a lowly halfbreed like you could get this far!"

"That halfbreed happens to be a friend of mine!" A voice shouted from above. As Kuyo stared up, he was just in time to catch an eyefull of falling releases Moka, who proceeded to kick him in the chest – a kick which resulted in Kuyo being catapulted into the Academy's bell-tower.

"You have racked up an impressive body-count," Moka said, looking at the battlefield. "Once again, you surprise me with your strength, Wizard."

Harry drew a couple fo deep breaths, trying to still his racing heart. "And you... are still... beautiful, Vampire." He managed out between gasps of air. His lungs were burning, his heart was racing, his muscles felt like they would never, ever, support him again.

"Heh," she said with a cocky grin. "I think you'll be fine."

"Master Harry!" Yukari raced up to him, trying to help him to his feet. To Harry's surprise, Tsukune helped with the other side.

"Seems we got you out," Harry muttered to the human boy.

"Thanks to you. If you ever need anything..."

Harry shook his head. "I'm still an idiot. Racing ahead..." he muttered. "Damn, I'm beat."

Up in the bell-twoer, the structure suddenly exploded, a bright golden flame flashing up from the debris, and landing in front of the small group.

Kuyo had released his demonic form.

"A four-tailed Youko," Kurumu muttered. "It can't be!"

"A demonic fox, huh?" Harry said, chuckling. He tried to lift his wands.

It seemed his arms had other ideas, and his fingers could barely keep the two weapons from falling to the ground, let alone cast spells. "Damn."

"This is my fight," Moka declared, rushing the demonic four-tailed demonic fox form of the Student Police Chief.

As she raced to the fox, it started spinning its tails, gathering up an impressive amount of power, before letting it go in the direction of the barnstorming vampire.

Moka let out a dull grunt as the fire detonated against her, blowing her back from her targets.

"Damn," Harry muttered. "Yukari. Help me. I need the Index."

Yukari tore her gaze away from the fight with the biggest reluctance, before giving him a small nod, and reaching for the index, suspended from Harry's belt. Unclipping it from its chain keeping it locked, she brought it up for Harry to speak to.

"Index, help. Existential emergency."

The book glowed blue, and Yukari opened it for Harry to read.

"Warning, chapter two, Stanza six," Harry read out loud. "For the protection of existential integrity, forcing reboot into John's Pen mode."

As Harry spoke, the book's glow intensified, before it slammed shut, and chains seemed to appear around it. The chains snapped immediately after, and Harry was hit by a jolt of energy – energy he badly needed.

As his entire body glowed blue, his green eyes dulled, as if all the life went out of them. The blue glow turned black, and both Yukari and Tsukune released him as his body was jerked away from them, floating in mid-air due to the influence of the Index.

Geometric patterns superimposed themselves on top of his green irises, and the Index-Harry focused its attention on the demonic fox, which was fighting a more or less even battle with the released vampire – Kurumu and Mizore standing by, watching helplessly, not daring to intervene and risk hitting their ally.

As Harry opened his mouth, and spoke, his voice resounded across the battlefield with a curious resonation, sounding most definitely no longer ike Harry's old voice – but, at the same time, it was unmistakably his.

"_**Warning. Chapter three, Verse 1. In order to protect the existential integrity of the 103,000 grimoires of the ****Index Librorum Prohibitorum****, prioritizing the engagement with the target. Begin construction of a local weapon against the target."**_

Harry seemed to pause for two seconds, before the strange voice went on. _**"Successfully constructed the most effective weapon against the target."**_ The geometric patterns across Harry's eyes enlarged, going away from his body and forming a large shape in mind-air, twin circles intersecting, forming an array that just seemed to pulse with power. _**"Initiating local weapon 'Saint George's Sanctuary'. Proceeding to destroy the target."**_

"Moka! Duck!" Tsukune shouted, Moka having just enough time to look over her shoulder at Harry, and seeing the array, before the very reality within the construct broke apart, and the air filled with ozone.

Kuyo blinked twice, not really understanding what was happening, before Moka ducked, and rolled away. A high-pitched whne was replaced by a low-level hum, which climbed rapidly in power and intensity, before a bright white beam of power lashed away from the array, striking at Kuyo.

The demon fox tried to jump away, but was caught in the beam regardless, and struck the walls of the school behind him with resounding force.

"What the... ?" Moka muttered. Having just fought the creature, she _knew_ how strong he was. To see Harry release one attack and do this much damage... "You kill him."

Index-Harry's head cocked slightly. The spiritual energy of Kuyo went up again, rather than dying down, and from the debris stepped Kuyo, in a hybrid-like form, half-man and half demonic fox. Unfortunately, this form seemed to be even more powerful than the last one had been, and Index-Harry's head righted itself.

"_**Saint George's Sanctuary does not seem to be effective against the target. Switching to other spells and proceeding with the destruction of the target."**_

Again, the beam lashed out, this time, the bright white of the original beam was laced with reds and yellows, and Kuyo growled as he lashed his hands together to block it, knowing better than to dodge it – he had seen how that had turned out last time he tried it.

"_**Warning. Chapter 6, Verse 13. Target is able to block current battle logic. Beginning trace of battlefield and proceeding to change battle logic." **_Again, two seconds seem to pass as Index-Harry thought things through. **_"Vital energy is dropping rapidly due to Saint George's Sanctuary. Beginning construction of array required to fuel Rune of Regeneration. Complete. Casting array."_**

The array of Saint George's Sanctuary was suddenly joined by a string of runes etching themselves into mid-air around the intersection circles. As Harry's green eyes darkened into blood-red, and his black hair lightened into silver, his fangs started growing until they reached the size of Moka's. _**"Complete. Using Vampiric Demonic Aura to fuel Rune of Regeneration to replenish vital energy required for combat against target. Moving Saint George's Sanctuary to level two."**_

Again, Index-Harry seemed to pause for a second, not at all bothered by the screaming Kuyo, who was barely able to keep the beam at bay. _**"Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani?"**_ (1)

The beam turned bright red, and Kuyo screamed as it tore through his hands, his arms, and his chest. The next second, the beam flickered off, and the seal arrays vanished from mid-air.

"_**Suppression of the target has been successful. Forcing reboot out of John's Pen mode."**_

The next moment, Harry toppled over, out cold.

"He killed him," Tsukune muttered.

"Like a Vampire would," Moka said, sounding halfway between grudging and admiration. "Cold and without a second thought." She watched his hair return to its usual colour, and his fangs receding. "Pity. He would have made a fine vampire."

00000 A few days later 00000

Harry looked at himself in the mirror, inspecting the seal he had inscribed, in his own blood, on his chest and stomach. Using the vast amounts of knowledge gleaned from the Index' possession of his mind and body, Harry had reconstructed the seal array used to bring out the full power of the vampire blood coursing through his veins. Rather than be transformed permanently, Harry would use the seal to bring out the transformation when required.

He nodded. "Alright," he said, turning to sit down in the middle of his room. "Your turn, Yukari."

The little eleven-year-old nodded. "Right," she said, sitting down behind him, starting to copy the runic array onto Harry's back.

"Oh, and Yukari?"

"Yes, Master Harry?" she asked with an impish smile, leaning over his shoulder.

"Do not mess this up."

She grinned. "I won't."

Harry grit his teeth, making sure he didn't pull away from the tickling sensations of the old-fashioned pen scratching over his skin. He heard the rhythmic scratch-scratch of the pen be interspaced with the tic-tic of Yukari drawing more blood-ink from the inkwell. Methodically, the girl copied the array onto his back.

"That's it," she finally said, and Harry let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. Standing up, he walked to the mirror, presented his back to it, and held up a small hand-mirror to inspect the work. Methodically, he inspected it.

"It looks good. Thanks, Yukari." Sitting down once again, he closed his eyes, and whispered his spells.

The blood-red ink burned brighter red, and Harry drew a gasp as pain flared through his system, before the ink 'cooled' down, to form permanent black markers on Harry's otherwise perfect skin. Looking down, he nodded. "Good. Next part." Taking the pen again, he started writing on his left arm with his right hand, before switching the pen over to write on his right arm with his left hand.

Not for the first time, Harry was glad he had cast that spell that made him ambidextrous.

The sealing spell followed again, and Harry grit his teeth against the burning sensations of the ink attaching itself permanently to his skin. Looking over the runes, he nodded to himself. "Alright, and now the control arrays."

Writing on the palms of his hands was something he hadn't done since he was a kid – and somehow, it didn't seem quite as easy as he remembered. The skin made writing rather difficult, especially with the myriad of lines running through it, but somehow, he managed to write the two arrays he needed onto the palms of his hands.

Before sealing those, too.

"Let's see if this works," Harry muttered, slapping his hands together. On his right hand was the control array, on his left was the counter-array, unsealing the power sealed by the control array on his right. By slapping his palms together, he negated the containment, causing the control array to break, which in turn released the power contained within the giant arrays on his front and back, bringing out the vampiric power.

"Reseal," he muttered, closing his eyes and focusing on the effect he needed to become.

Half an hour later, Moka was practically swooning as he looked at a transformed Harry. "That is so cool! And can you do that at will!?"

He nodded. "Yes," he said, resealing the arrays, making his transformation die down. "I'm not a true vampire, the arrays merely bring out the power of the blood your other self gave me. I think I might be able to keep it up for half an hour or so, but no more than that."

"Do you... do you think you could do the same for me?" She suddenly asked. "The rosary is great, but I need someone who cares for me to remove it. It would be nice to be able to bring out my other self and defend myself when it's needed..."

Harry suddenly drew bright red. "I... eh.... think I could do something," he muttered. "But... I don't think you want me to."

Moka practically squeezed the life out of him. "Why not?"

Blushing even brighter, Harry tried to formulate a diplomatic answer, only to come up short. Finally, he merely lifted his shirt, showing his stomach and the bottom part of his chest. "Because this is the actual sealing array. I have a similar one on my back. And, as you can see... it goes all the way up to my chest..."

Moka, realizing that she was seeing Harry pretty much topless, had a bit of difficulty getting her mind to engage, before realizing what he would have to do in order to seal her power.

"Right. Never mind." the pink-haired vampire said, blushing even brighter than Harry, and very much changing the subject after that.

For the rest of the day, Harry kept catching glances from the girl, however.

00000 the message 00000

Harry was just coming out of class, trailing a bit behind Tsukune, Moka, and Kurumu. Mizore and Yukari, as was their want, were walking on Harry's left and right. Suddenly, Harry heard a familiar sound, and looked up at the sky, a frown on his features, just in time to catch a bright white missile dive-bombing him.

"Hedwig!" Harry screamed, catching his very first friend – and quite likely, the only one to never betray him. "It's so good to see you!" The white bird showed her appreciation as Harry petted her.

"Oh, waw! She's pretty!" Yukari said, practically bouncing up and down.

Hedwig preened as the others mirrored the sentiment. "Everyone, this is Hedwig. She's probably my first real friend," Harry said, smiling widely. "And the only friend I have left in Britain." Hedwig nipped his fingers. "Sorry, Hedwig. Hedwig, this is Yukari, Mizore, Tsukune, Moka, and Kurumu."

"She has you under her wing, Harry," Kurumu said, grinning widely at the sight of Harry bending to Hedwig's will.

"And I'll never forget it, too," Harry replied, finally spotting a letter attached to Hedwig's leg. "What have you got for me, girl?"

Hedwig held out her leg, and Harry untied the message. As he started to read, the smile vanished from his face, only to be slowly replaced by a coldly furious look – the same look he had when deciding that 'Student Police Hunting' was the best way to free Tsukune and Moka.

Hedwig, feeling him start to vibrate with anger, flapped her wings, and landed quite deftly on Moka's shoulders, giving her human an unreadable look.

The moment he could no longer feel Hedwig's weight on his shoulder, Harry spun around, and unleashed a barrage of magic against the nearest tree. The poor thing never stood a chance, and was reduced to toothpicks within seconds.

"Harry?" Yukari asked.

"The unmitigated bastards," Harry muttered. "Voldemort broke into the ministry, so _now_ they decide to believe me. _Of course_ they forgive me. _Naturally,_ I'll want to come home as soon as possible – because otherwise, they'll start thinking I'm being held under duress, and they'll be forced to send the Aurors after me to make sure that I get home in an expedient manner."

Harry's face was furious as he spoke. Hedwig made an apologetic noise. "Not your fault, girl." He looked at the others. "I don't want to go back. I refuse to go back. And if they send their corrupt police force after me, I'll deal with them the same way I've dealt with the Student Police here."

"Harry," Moka muttered, slipping closer to him, making sure she didn't jostle the white bird still perched on her shoulder. "Maybe you should go back."

"What!?" Harry asked, his exclamation echoed by the others. Suddenly, the gentle pink-haired sealed vampire's face took on a cold look.

"Who said you'd be going alone? And from what you told me, imagine the surprise on their faces when you turn out to be part vampire, with a full vampire standing by you?"

"And a Succubus," Kurumu said, grinning evilly.

"And a Yuki Onna," Mizore added in.

"And a witch!" Yukari said, shouting excitedly.

"Well, they know witches," Harry said with a smile.

"Not one trained by you, Master Harry," Yukari replied impishly.

"And you'd better not forget about me," Tsukune said. "I don't know how much help I'll be, but I'm sure not going to be left behind."

Harry looked at his friends – realizing for the first time that these people were not like his old 'friends' had been, and that they would come after him to the ends of the world, if need be – because that was what true friends did, regardless of the possible outcome or the danger posed to themselves.

Harry swallowed thickly, and nodded. "Thank you," his voice sounded uneven.

"You attacked the Student Police, single-handedly, to free me," Tsukune said. "Could I do anything less?"

00000 fallout, preparations, and returns 00000

"You want me to do _what_?" Harry asked Moka, who looked rather sheepishly at him. They were alone in Harry's dorm room, Moka having shown up way after lights out.

"I want you to re-seal me," the sealed Vampire whispered self-consciously. "And yes, you told me what you need to do."

Harry looked at the ceiling as if praying to it, before turning his back and starting to pace the width of his room. "I'll need to recalibrate the seals. You don't have a magical core I can tie the runes into, so I'll need to bind the arrays to your blood. That's not the hard part." He turned to face her. "First of all, you'll need to be topless. Completely topless."

Moka nodded. "I know that. And I trust you. But, if we're going to Britain with you, I want to be able to release my other self whenever I need her, not when Tsukune happens to be nearby."

"And it will need to be when you're in your other form. It's _her_ I will be sealing into _you_, not the other way around," Harry finished.

Moka blushed bright red. "That might not be the issue you think it is."

"What?" Harry asked, staring at her, totally flabbergasted.

"I told you, Harry, my other self _likes_ you. And if it's to help her... me... us... I doubt she'll mind."

"Well, I doubt it very much," Harry muttered, crossing his arms.

"How long would you need to do... what you need to do... to the seals?" she asked him, somewhat changing the subject.

Harry shrugged. "I was intrigued by your question before. I've done most of the preliminary work. Ten minutes? Fifteen minutes?"

"Then all I need is to have Tsukune release me," Moka said, smiling slightly, and making for the door.

"I'm still not doing it. I'm not risking my life to put my hands anywhere _near_ you when you're topless. And that goes double for your other self."

Moka turned to him, staring at his back, before easing towards him, deliberately pressing herself against his back, and giggling softly at feeling him tense beneath her. Leaning against his shoulder, she placed her head on his shoulder. "I'd almost think you don't like girls," she teased.

He spun around, ignoring the fact that she was pressed against him, and her rosary was firmly pressed between her body and his. As he spun, the item detached.

"Oh, crap," Harry muttered the moment he felt the seal break and Moka's full Vampiric Aura pressed down on his room. Taking three steps back, placing himself firmly _outside_ any personal space the short-tempered Master Vampire could wish for herself.

The silver-haired beauty grinned at him. "So... it seems you care for my other self, as well as myself," she stated, looking at the rosary on the ground.

Harry glared at it, wishing upon it all the plagues of Egypt.

He blinked. How did he know all the plagues of Egypt, and how to wish them upon someone? He shook his head. The Index. There was still knowledge he was uncovering.

He looked up at Moka. Right. Other problems first. Plagues of Egypt come later.

"I still haven't heard a reply to my other self's comment. Do you not like girls?"

Harry huffed, and crossed his arms. "Too much. That's the problem."

Moka lifted a single, perfectly tailored eyebrow. "Explain."

Waving his hands and arms, the wizard said, "What? Hello!? Teenaged male here! What do you _think_ will happen when you take off your clothes?"

The Vampiress shrugged. "You will do your job."

Harry turned his back to her again. "I don't think so."

He heard a vague chuckle from behind him, followed by rustling.

Rustling clothes.

He pressed his eyes closed firmly, trying not to give in to the temptation to turn around and watch. _Think other thoughts, think other thoughts..._

"Now, Wizard, you will do what is required. You will seal me, and explain how to use the seals."

Harry shook his head. "I refuse to turn around, so you can just put your clothes back on."

He heard Moka hum. "So you are telling me that you think me so repulsive you can not even bear to look at me, let alone touch me?"

He groaned. "_Puh-lease_, I've been telling you you're beautiful since I first saw you. And besides, I think I know you well enough to know that you are not the kind of woman to be insecure about how she looks."

"Then why do you not turn around? If it eases your over-bearing conscience, I am giving you permission to look, if that is what it takes to get you to do this."

"I've shown the runic arrays to Yukari, she did my back. Maybe she could-"

"I am not accustomed to being pawed off to an apprentice, Master Potter. _You_ will do this seal. As I said, I am giving you permission to ogle me, if that is what you wish to do in return for doing this."

Harry's fists clenched so hard that his knuckled popped. "I did _not_ just hear that," he declared angrily. "If you must know, I have too much respect to demean you in such a fashion. Besides," he trailed off. "I have never actually... seen... you know. I will not be able to contain my reaction."

Silence descended upon the room.

"You are a better man than I ever thought, Harry. It is alright. I know you will treat me with respect, and that you will not talk about this encounter. Now, turn around and do this." He heard her draw a breath. "Please?"

The unsealed Moka never said please. The word didn't even seem to be in her vocabulary. That she would use it now showed Harry just how important this was.

"Fine," he breathed. "But I am not taking the blame for this. If my reactions offend you, you have only one person to blame."

He heard her foot tapping the ground, and could almost hear her angry glare and crossed arms.

Drawing another breath, he turned around. "Please begin by drawing some blood to make the ink..." he said, before opening his eyes, and his voice trailed off.

Moka, especially the unsealed version, was a very healthy woman.

It took him nearly ten seconds to break the entrancement, making his blush like he had never blushed before. "S-sorry," he muttered, turning to gather his tools and utensils, dropping most of them due to trembling and numb fingers.

"I am glad to see you think me attractive still," Moka teased. "Where do I put the blood?"

Harry motioned for the spell-vat he had used for his own ink. He had de-spelled it thoroughly, and neutralized any and all contaminants. It wouldn't do to mix two different potions, so it wouldn't do to mix two blood-inks, either.

It was almost an hour later when Harry closed his eyes, and finished the last of the runic sealing. The room was spinning before his eyes – sealing another, especially another as powerful as a full vampire – was in a totally different league than sealing himself had been, and he was feeling the strain echo through his mind, his body, and his magic.

"Two seals," he muttered. "A single drop of blood on your left palm will release you, a drop of blood on your right will reactivate the seal." With those words, he toppled over, asleep.

Moka stared at her palms. "Interesting," she said, standing up to dress herself. The process had been mildly painful, but the little bit of discomfort was worth it.

Looking at the sleeping Harry, she smiled slightly, picked him up, and placed him in his bed. For a moment, she looked at him sleeping, and a devilish smirk appeared on her face. Turning off the lights, she lifted the covers, and slipped in the bed with him. Maybe _that_ would finally get him over that shyness with girls.

The next morning, Harry slowly awoke, feeling quite safe. Not to mention warm. And something soft was around him.

He blinked his eyes open, and stared woozily at the third arm he seemed to have acquired somewhere. As he stared stupidly at the arm, not really thinking clearly yet, he muttered, "Where did I get that from?"

"That one's mine, sorry," a voice whispered in his ear, making him jump out of the bed.

"Mo-Moka!?" he shouted. "What are you doing in my bed!?"

"Don't tell me last night meant nothing to you, Harry?" the vampire teased, her tongue licking her fangs. "It's not every day that I left someone not only _see_ my chest, but _play_ with it as well."

Harry stuttered, blushing bright red. Moka finally relented, and chuckled slightly as she eased herself out of the bed with the kind of perfect choreography that made most olympic gymnasts green with envy. "Nothing happened, Harry. I put you to bed, and decided to have some fun with you."

Harry shook his head. "For a moment there, I was actually worried. I mean, it had to have been a pretty scarring experience for me to have so completely forgotten about it."

Moka blinked ins surprise, before her face got a devious look to it. "You're learning, Little Wizard." She said, patting him on the shoulder. "Better. Much better." She nicked her lip with one of her fangs. "Let's see if this works as you said it would." Dropping a single drop of blood on the seal on the palm of her right hand, a bright red flashed travelled through the runic shapes, over her arms, to the large arrays hidden on her chest and back.

Moka had re-sealed herself.

00000 Arrival at Hogwarts 00000

With a bright flash, the quintet arrived, standing in a circle in the middle of a forested area.

"I _hate_ those... what did you call them?" Kurumu complained.

"Portkeys," Harry said. "And I hate them, too. But the bus could only get us to London."

"Just where are we?" Yukari asked, shivering slightly, and pressing closer to Harry. "This forest is creepy."

"It's called the Forbidden Forest for a reason, Yukari," Harry said, a small glint in his eyes. "It's close to Hogwarts. Now, give me a few minutes to prepare, okay?"

Tsukune and Mizore shrugged, while Yukari nodded, glad to be able to pay attention and learn something she had no doubt never seen, nor heard of, before. Moka just smiled and took a few steps back, not at all concerned to be in a place called a 'Forbidden Forest'. Ever since Harry had redone her seal, she had gained some confidence from the fact that her sealed power was more readily accessible.

As Harry found himself a suitable little branch, he started writing into the dirt, repeating the same expression over and over again, almost like a mantra of sorts.

"In the Beginning, there was primal clay," he muttered as he wrote his repeating mantra on the ground. _Golem Ellis. Golem Ellis._ "God Created a form from the clay, bestowed life upon it, and called it 'Man'. This secret was passed to Man through the Oral tradition of the fallen angels, however, this secret was too great for Man to handle. Thus, the life born from my hand halts at a decaying mud doll." He looked up, only noticing now that everyone was staring at him, the close to five hundred iterations of his written mantra. "Mud-stinking golem, Ellis. Laugh and decay at my bidding." He clapped his hands, making sure not to channel any magic to his runic arrays.

The written words shimmered, then started to flow together like water, forming five hundred perfect eyes, each staring independently at the world around it, some staring at a girl, some at the surrounding forest, some staring at Tsukune, some staring at Harry, but all of them blinking and changing their views without warning. A single mental command had them flowing away, to who-knew-where.

"Now I will see everything that goes on in this country," Harry said. "The eyes will blend into walls, floors, and ceilings. They will hide in paintings and under furniture. They will see, and I will know."

"W-wow!"' Yukari breathed.

Harry grinned. "That's nothing. I hope they do not anger me, because that particular school of magic can do stuff a lot more dangerous than merely staring at a target."

"Like what?" Kurumu asked, feeling massively freaked out by one of the eyes, one that had remained behind, and stared, unblinkingly, at her.

"Leave," Harry told the eye, which blinked – or was that winked? - and left at his instructions. "Sorry, Kurumu. Anyway, if you want to know what else this magic has – let me set up an array. Let's hope I don't need to activate it."

Not ten minutes later, Harry pushed the large doors to the Great Hall open, disturbing the End-of-Term feast.

Just as he had planned.

Schooling his face into a neutral mask, he strode down the central isle to the Head Table, surrounded by the dead silence of hundreds of staring students. Behind him, Moka, Kurumu, Mizore, and Yukari followed some kind of honorary protection detail. Tsukune closed the small procession, dressed in a pitch-black robe Harry had conjured up for him. With the hood thrown up, some built-in shadowing charms came into play, obscuring his face.

Harry's instructions to Tsukune had been clear – remain silent, and act like nothing they do can touch you, and nobody _will_. For once, the boy felt quite comfortable in a dangerous situation.

"Headmaster," Harry said, coming to a stop in front of the man and crossing his arms. His 'Honor Guard' flanked him, while tsukune took one long, lazy, look around the room, acting, or so he hoped, as if he were above it all. As his gaze travelled the crowd, he could see most students flinch away from his look, and he guessed he was pulling off the 'badass' look quite well. He resisted the urge to chuckle. It felt good to be on the other side for once.

"It is so good to see you, Harry. You can not imagine how pleased I am to see you well!" Dumbledore greeted him.

"Unfortunately, I can not stay," Harry said. "Regretfully, I am here under duress. As such, I am forced to come to you and grant me one last request before I leave the British Isles forever."

The man blanched, and stared at Harry. "Excuse me?" he asked, finally.

"I wish to revoke British Citizenship," Harry said, motioning to Moka. "My friend, Moka Akashiya – excuse me, _the lady_ Moka Akashiya, has granted me Japanese Citizenship, as well the protection of her Clan," he corrected himself, bowing in her direction. The vampire smiled at him, and dipped her head in return.

The Headmaster seemed to recognize her name, as he paled dramatically, and fell into his chair with an audible thump. "But... Harry... you can not..."

"Of course he can," Kurumu said, grinning widely. "He is here because there was a threat that they'd send Auro... Aro... cops after him if he didn't. To make sure there's no unnecessary bloodbath, Harry was nice enough to come here in person."

"The Lady Kurumu Kurono knows how to exaggerate, as usual," Harry said with a faint smile. The Succubus poked out her tongue at him. The Headmaster stared at the girl for ten long seconds.

"You have made influential friends," Dumbledore finally said. "But Harry, please. You are needed here. We need your help against Voldemort."

The reactions of the students in the Great Hall was very comical, and it made Tsukune chuckle.

It seemed Harry had built in a voice-distorting charm as well, as the chuckle sounded dry, raspy, and immensely powerful. Harry played his part well, and shot a fearful look at the robed Tsukune. The boy held up a gloved hand, indicating he was sorry.

Only their small group knew that. To everybody else, it looked as if he were bidding the room to silence.

It worked, too.

Harry made a show out of letting out a relieved breath, which drew another dry and raspy chuckle from Tsukune. "May I know the names of your other... companions?"

"They are _friends_, Headmaster." Harry looked over his shoulder, to the Gryffindor table. Hermione looked near to a nervous breakdown, and Ron was sitting by himself, practically bright red with self-righteous indignation. "_True_ friends," he elaborated, looking back at the Headmaster. "When I received my... permit to return... their first question was, _when do we leave_. Not, when do _you_ leave, but when do _we_ leave. _That_, Headmaster,s the kind of friendship I thought I had at this school. Last year has proven to me that Britain does not care for me. At least my enemies were honest with me, but my so-called friends couldn't wait o stab me in the back, and did so at the first opportunity."

"You came back with Krum's body, what were we supposed to think!?" Hermione Granger screamed from the Gryffindor table.

Harry snapped around. "You were supposed to _believe me_!" he snapped back. "That's what _friends_ do! Now, shut up, and sit down, or I will do it _for_ you, Granger."

His anger was palpable, and the subconscious magical enhancement made the tables rattle. Hermione Granger paled, closed her mouth, and sat down. Harry snapped back to the Headmaster. "Chief Warlock of the Wizengamut, I want you to rescind my British Citizenship, and revoke any and all claims this sham of a Ministry has on me, so that I may live out my life in peace, far away from this backwater country, its provincial school, and its corrupt leaders."

"I'm afraid I can not do that, Harry."

Harry looked at Moka. "I told you they would not listen to civic appeals, and established rules of process."

The pink-haired girl looked sad. "So be it, then." She nicked her lip, and let a single drop of blood fall onto her right palm, unleashing her inner self.

Power flooded the great hall, scaring its students with its demonic intensity. "As Daughter of the House of Akashiya, I am placing Harry James Potter under the protection of Clan Akashiya, and am hereby revoking any and all rights Great Britain has on him. You will receive the paperwork within twenty-four hours. Come, Wizard."

"Yes, Vampire," Harry replied.

Together, they turned, and started to walk away. The door slammed shut before they hed taken three steps.

"It is absolutely vital that you remain here, Harry."

"I suggest you call him Lord Potter," Moka said, turning. "As an adopted blood-brother of Moka Akashiya, Harry is a member of Vampiric Aristocracy."

Dumbledore, who had been regaining some colour, pales once more. "What have you done, dear boy?"

Harry slapped his hands, this time channeling magic into his arrays.

Screams of terror filled the Great Hall as Harry Potter turned into a Vampire before their eyes. Tsukune couldn't hold himself any longer, and laughed loudly at the display.

The distortion charm made him sound like Voldemort in the middle of a bloodbath.

Again, it stilled the room quite easily.

"I have accepted the blood-brotherhood of the Lady Akashiya. I am now a member of Clan Akashiya, one of the Great Vampire Families. You can not touch me, and I would suggest refraining from trying to capture me by force."

Snape had finally had enough, and brutally snapped out a Legilimens probe. A brutal spearhead of power knifed through him a moment later, forcing a gurgle from his throat, before he collapsed unconsciously in the middle of the food.

"Mental attacks are cowardly," Harry simply stated. "The next time, I will _not_ hold back."

Dumbledore stared at his unconscious Potions Master. "You held back?"

Harry smirked. "The book you gave me was invaluable, Headmaster."

"That book was supposed to teach you basic magic!"

"And it did. And it taught me many other things as well. You'd be surprised the kinds of situations one runs into at a _demon school_." He glanced at Kurumu, who seemed to understand the look, and released her demonic form. Leathery wings burst from her back, horns grew on her head, and a leathery tail snaked out from her skirt. "For instance, Kurumu is a Succubus. So, that book taught me to protect my mind. With impenetrable defences. Of course, there was great risks, but then again, I am not afraid of taking risks. It gave me a training program, and made me into what I am today. Again, at great risk."

To emphasize what he was saying, Harry took out his new wand, and twirled it around. "I built this myself, for instance. With the help of my friends, of course."

Standing up, Dumbleore showed that he was not just the kindly headmaster, but also the defeater of Grindelwald. "I can not let you go, Harry. It is unfortunate that you must find out this way, but you are prophesied to defeat Voldemort, and I can not let you ruin this country for your own selfish desires. The Greater Good demands sacrifices, Harry!"

"The Great Good can go screw itself, and I think you will find that my friends will not let you imprison me without fighting back. This country screwed me over, so now I will let it screw over itself."

Dumbledore's first spell met only empty air, and Moka was almost on top of him a second later. Darting away with a spry jump, Dumbledore snapped a water-conjuration charm, which drenched Moka, and robbed her of her power.

Her screams tore into Harry, and he didn't even need to _cast_ his spells. His mental augmentation and physical enhancement spells were so ingrained into his magica core by now that he could cast them with just a simple thought. With two wands, he started chain-casting at the Headmaster, ignoring the other teachers.

That was a mistake, as he suddenly found himself pinned to the floor by a Transfigured stone hand. Kurumu was battling Flitwick, who, thanks to his small size, was able to keep away from the Succubus' physical attacks. Yukari was trying to take down McGonagall, to free Harry, was didn't seem to be having much luck. Tsukune merely stood there, remembering Harry's advice.

So far, nobody was attacking him, which was a good thing. Mizore kept a surreptitious eye on him as she unleashed her ice-claws, and engaged the Headmaster, now that he was no longer fighting Harry.

"You are all idiots," Harry muttered, but his voice still carried. He closed his eyes, and reached for the array in the Forbidden Forest with his magic. _Basic principle is Kabbalah. Main from of use is defensive, and for elimination of enemies. Era of extraction is 16__th__ century, with applied nature. Mixing of English Purist Church magic style with original style. Linguistic system changed from Hebrew to English. Begin in manipulated mode. _

The castle shook, and the fighting stopped as the miniature earthquake continued.

"_This _is how you do it!" Harry snapped at McGonagall, as the entire wall, complete with windows, vanished as a veritable stone giant ripped it open, and reached a hand the size of a semi-truck to breack the bonds holding Harry down. "Golem Ellis, I thank you."

"You delved into the Kabbalah!?" Dumbledore shouted.

"I did more than that, Dumbledore," Harry said, finally letting go of his respect for the man. "Index, Existential Emergency. Chapter two, Stanza six."

As Harry was lifted to his feet by the unleashing power of the Index, his eyes dulled. _**"For the protection of existential integrity, forced reboot into John's Pen mode complete."**_

"Oh, crap," Kurumu muttered.

"Harry, that will not be necessary," Dumbledore said, back to his kindly tone. "I am sure we can talk about it like civilized men."

"We tried that," Moka muttered, slowly getting to her legs from where the water had drained her strength. Small arcs of electric-like power still crackled over her wet clothing. "And you drew your wand on us."

"_**Warning. Chapter three, Verse 1. In order to protect the existential integrity of the 103,000 grimoires of the ****Index Librorum Prohibitorum****, prioritizing the engagement with the target. Begin construction of a local weapon against the target."**_

Dumbledore paled.

This time, there was no pause; Index-Harry's voice went on without interruption. _**"Successfully constructed the most effective weapon against the target."**_ Again, the runic arrays appeared in mid-air.

"That array – Albus, run!" The Ancient Runes professor shouted.

"_**Initiating local weapon 'Saint George's Sanctuary'. Proceeding to destroy the target."**_

Dumbledore dodged the initial strike, and returned with an awful barrage of magic, which simply disappeared into the runic array, which used the attacks to power itself further. As the beam tracked across the Great Hall, it caused people to dodge out of the way as it destroyed furniture, cutlery, food, walls, and floors.

Index-Harry did not get frustrated. It got _even_. _**"Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani?"**_ (1)

This time, Kurumu grabbed a soaked Moka, and physically flew her behind Harry, Mizore, Yukari, and Tsukune following suit. As the second level Saint George's Sanctuary come to life, they noticed something they _hadn't _noticed the last time.

Feathers were falling from the heavens.

Whenever such a feather touched a teacher, their faces went blank, and they fell to the floor.

"Dragon's Breath," Yukari whispered. "It will wipe all memories of those it touches. It's a legend... much like the Sanctuary of Saint George, which he used to defeat the dragon."

"_**Suppression of the target has been successful. Forcing reboot out of John's Pen mode."**_

Harry blinked, returning to himself after the Index left him. Thankfully, it hadn't drained him dry this time – and in return, it had left another hefty deposit of knowledge in his mind. Harry looked at the end of the Great Hall, seeing scattered bodies everywhere. "Damn. I had hoped it didn't have to turn out like this." He shrugged. "Too bad, I guess. They should have given me what I wanted." As he turned to leave, he caught sight of Malfoy, the pale blond shaking in one of the corners.

"Enjoy the country, Malfoy. It's all yours. Just tell you gay-ass master not to leave the country. He can have Britain, no more." With those words, Harry strode out of the Great hall, sealing his Vampiric transformation, and whispering a single spell which caused not only Moka to dry up, but to return most of her power as well.

Ten minutes later, right before they were to take a portkey back to London, Harry closed his eyes, and then broke the runic array on the ground, smirking viciously as he did so.

"What did you do?" the unsealed Moka asked. "I like that look on your face."

"Left them a going-away present. I switched Golem Ellis to 'automaton' mode, then destroyed my control array. They'll have a devil of a time suppressing a self-regenerating rampaging Golem that's five stories tall."

The entire group chuckled as Harry activated the portkey. They had a school bus to catch – only never to return.

00000 Voldemort 00000

Voldemort scowled at the form of Draco Malfoy, kneeling at his feet. Without hesitation, the Dark Lord slammed a legilimens probe down into the boy's mind, eager to see what had transpired between the Potter boy and the _great_ Albus Dumbledore.

As the scene played, Voldemort kept his eyes on the figure robed in black. His – or her, Voldemort supposed – were complete hidden by the robes. As the conversation progressed, Voldemort could see the path of thinking taken by Potter. All the boy wanted was never to return, and to be left alone.

That was something he could understand. After all, had he not held a similar hatred for the country of his birth? Only Voldemort had chosen the road to destroy it, rather than abandon it. As the conversation progressed, the fact was revealed that Potter had accepted the blood-brotherhood of the Akashiya clan, Voldemort actually chuckled at the sight of the reactions of the sheep present. Again, his attention was drawn to the black-robed figure, the power of that voice was... commanding.

Voldemort cowled as he realized that the little weasel of a Draco Malfoy had pressed himself into a corner, hoping not to be noticed. That was quite contrary to the herior tale had had just spouted, and Voldemort's distaste for his followers lying to him was legendary. Apparently, the fear of the truth coming out had been worse than the fear of punishment. Or, perhaps, the Malfoy brat feared Potter and his new allies more than he feared Voldemort.

Voldemort walked around Draco's memory, pausing it to review the scene as it stood now. Potter was halfway out the room, his group arrayed around him. The Vampire noble was right at his side, the Succubus Lady was at his other side. The strange little watch was overing their backs. She too, intrigued Voldemort – she was using a wand that was clearly foreign in origin, as shown by it unusual form. And the tere was the silent ghost of the purple-haired girl. She, quite literally, vanished for whole minutes at a time, only to pop up when needed to make the subtle point of her presence.

And always it was in the most strategically most advantageous spot. And once more, Voldemort stared a the black-robed figure. Those robes _breathed_ power. When Voldemort walked closer in Draco's memory, the boy's perception had only _just_ caught sight of the runes embroidered upon them.

Voldemort's alabaster white skin paled into a sort of ugly yellowish white.

Those runes.

Those runes, in that form.

Whomever designed those robes was either a genius, or insane, or quite possibly an insane genius. Or a genius nutcase. Not only did those runes hide evrything within the veil of the robes they were embroidered upon, they also distorted sound and vision. But that was not what had Voldemort concerned.

No, because the runes were arrayed in such a form that they negated magic. They cancelled it, reformed it, and used it for their own purposes. Unfortunately, the purpose was hidden within a fold of the robe, and the Malfoy brat had not received a clear sight of the rest of the rune paragraph.

The being within those robes must be the most magically powerful being Voldemort had ever seen. Not even _he_, Voldemort himself, would be able to survive within such a robe, for it would draw his magical core empty within a matter of minutes. If the being within those robes was able to walk around, clearly unaffected by the runes, the power in its possession must be enormous.

Perhaps a true demon of some sorts, not one of the mere monsters walking these planes, but a true demon out of hell would be able to have a core sufficiently powerful to sustain the continuous drain such robes would constitute.

Voldemort resumed the memory, witnessing hos Dumbledore made the fatal mistake of trying to force the boy through power.

Even Voldemort knew better than to try power against someone like the Potter brat. Using force would only make the boy dig his heels in, and resist worse.

Voldemort smirked at the sight of being right, as the boy unleashed a seriously impressive string of spells against the Headmaster, at speeds that, quite frankly, impressed the heck out Voldemort.

Seeing how the boy was taken down by a single conjured hand by McGonagall, he found himself disappointed. Looking at the other allies brought in by the boy, Voldemort(s critical eye went over them. The Vampiress had been taken down by her most basic weakness – pure water. The purple-haired girl had developed long ice-claws. The witch was fighting with an impressive array fo spells that were nowhere near as fast as Harry's, but they were more outlandish than anything Voldemort had ever witnessed.

The little girl seemed especially adept at snap-conjuring cooking pots that tried to clobber people over the head.

The Succubus was likewise engaged in battle.

The robes figure just stood there and watched, as if the battle before him was of no import, and were merely watching the morning news while partaking in breakfast.

It was unnerving to Voldemort. Why had the boy brought this figure with him?

When Potter muttered, and the ground started to shake, Voldemort turned his attention back to the immobilized brat, who berated the Transfiguration Professor in her chosen field. Even Voldemort was taken aback when a giant stone hand merely ripped open the wall as if it were made of rice paper.

And then Harry merged with the Index.

Voldemort had heard of that book, of course. Every powerful magic-user had heard of it. It contained magics that were forbidden, too dangerous and unstable to use.

Only the most insane would dive into its deepest, hidden secrets.

Of course, it also contained the basics, and it was clear that Dumbledore had hoped Harry would learn the basics from the book.

Instead, it seemed, Harry had chosen the dangerous road, and learned more then mere basics. Voldemort found himself even more impressed when Potter's Index-possessed self started opening a can of whoopass on the combined teachers of Hogwarts.

The battle, as such, took less than two minutes.

Voldemort rewound the memory, this time vowing to watch how the boy's allies reacted. He could see the Succubus charge into save her Vampire ally, pale as a sheet, clearly terrifed when Harry merged with his Index. The witch and the Snow Girl raced to the other side of Harry, trying to gt out of his way as soon as they could.

And the black robed figure? He calmly turned, took three steps to be out of the field of fire, and turned to watch once more.

It was the most contemptuous statement of brute force Voldemort had ever witnessed.

Even he knew not to dawdle when a Vampire made a run for it. Not even he would take a mere three steps and turn to watch the fun.

Voldemort disengaged from the brat's mind. "You have lied to me, Draco. You were hiding in a corner like a cowardly rabbit." He flung his wand, changing the bleached blond into a bleached blonde rabbit. "Stay as such for a week. That is your punishment. Lucius. What of Hogwarts?"

Lucius stared at his son, swallowed, and reported, "Hogwarts is still standing, My Lord. The Golem Potter left behind went on a rampage after the boy left. It took a force of over one hundred Aurors to subdue it, and ti was only after some experimental curses from the Department of Mysteries reduced it to dust that it stopped regenerating itself. There were thirty-five mortalities, twenty-three people have been permanently crippled, and another forty will need extensive medical care from St Mungo's before being able to resume their posts." Lucius swallowed. "All the mind of the Hogwarts' teaching staff have been wiped due to Potter's... attack. According to St Mungo's, it's unlike anything they've ever seen before. Their minds weren't just wiped. It was as if their entire life was erased, but none of their skills were affected. They can still speak, walk, or use magic. It's... baffling."

Voldemort looking at the eldr Malfoy, before finally nodding after a terse ten-second silence that freaked Malfoy out more than his son being changed into a rabbit could ever do.

Secretly, Voldemort had to admire Potter. The boy was powerful, ruthless when provoked, knew how to choose his allies, and had amassed political power ot cover for his magical power when provoked.

"We shall focus on Britain, Lucius. We'll see about going after Potter when we have consolidated our power base."

00000 The destruction of Lord Voldemort 00000

"Hey Harry," Tsukune greeted as he entered the other boy's room at the Youkai Academy dorms. Smiling slightly at the sight of the others already present, he turned back to his host, "Am I late?"

Harry waved it off. "Nah, The others were just curious enough to show up early." Moka and Mizore flushed slightly, while Yukari and Kurumu show not intention of hiding their curiosity.

"Anyway, the reason I called you here in because one of the eyes I left behind recorded something wonderful for us all to enjoy," Harry said grinning widely. "Am I glad I left those couple hundred yes behind..."

At his invitation, they all crowded around his coffee table. "It seems that someone didn't take well to my story about Voldemort, and what he did."

Moka looked around. "I wondered where she went."

Harry grinned. "Can I help it that the girl loves me for redoing your seal?"

Moka grumbled slightly. "She never wants to beat your head in with a bat."

Harry grinned. "She just loves your other self, Moka."

Mokacrossed her arms across her ample chest. "She still scares me. Likely, my other self can deal with her now."

Harry chuckled along with the others present. The pouting look on Moka's face just made things better. "Anyway, here's a projection of what one of my eyes recorded." He activated a seal array on the coffee table, projecting the 'movie' recorded by the eye.

_Voldemort was seated on a throne-like chair that bore startling resemblance to the chair once occupied by Albus Dumbledore in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The chair n question was now placed in of the larger halls at the Ministry of Magic, and just about every noble, lord, baron, and member of the upper- and middle-class was present at the 'coronation' of Voldemort as the new King of Magical Britain. _

_Suddenly, the doors were kicked in, causing the massive items to skid halfway into the hall. In strode girl, about fifteen years of age, with a massive mace slung over one shoulder. She held bright neon-orange hair, cyan eyes, and a demonic aura that dwarfed anything in the room, even going as far as making the magical lights flicker._

"_Is this the room where the ass Tom Riddle is?" she asked, not sounding sorry for kicking in the doors. _

"_Who told you that name!?" Voldemort raged, standing up from his throne. _

"_Are you Tom?" the girl asked, lifting her mace, and swinging it around. _

"_My name is VOLDEMORT!"_

_The girl smiled. _

_It was not a nice smile. Rather, it was the kind of smile a cobra held just as it was about to strike a particularly tasty looking rat. "I'm Kokoa! Moka-sama's little sister! And I dislike anybody who hurts my new brother, Harry! So I'm here to teach you a lesson!" the finished the latter with an impressive flourish that ended with her mace pointed at Voldemort. _

_What happened next could only be described as a battle by those who enjoy mice running through mazes. _

_In the end, Voldemort was dead – again – but this time, there was nobody there to help in his resurrection._

_After all, the number of his followers dwindled to zero after seeing the beating Voldemort took at the hands of a little girl. But, then again, it was no _ordinary_ little girl, and he might have been forgiven. If only he hadn't started screaming for his mommy halfway through the beating. _

Harry ended the projection. "Damn, your sister is _scary_," Kurumu muttered to Moka, who could only nod.

Harry smirked. "Price of a plane ticket to Britain: one thousand dollars. Price of the taxi from Heathrow to Voldemort's lair: one-hundred forty dollars. Price of seeing Voldemort screaming for his mommy while receiving the beating of a lifetime at the hands of a little girl: priceless."

(1) My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? (matthew 27:45-46)


	7. Shuttle 6a Full Metal Magic part 1

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft six: Full Metal Magic**

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Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: Full Metal Panic

Timeframe: AU, age 1+

Last updated: 30th November 2009

Author's note: Major time-line fiddling required for this one. The goal is to place Harry and Sousuke Sagara within two years of each other. Even thought Full Metal Panic never really gave a date for their timeline, the tech level suggest they are in the mind-2000's in some areas, and twenty years further down the line in others. As Harry Potter is stated to take place in the early 90's, but never really shows much technology, there shouldn't be too much of an issue fiddling the timeline to make the two coincide. Maybe I'll just declare the Harry Potter universe to be moved up a decade or two – I've seen other authors do this when they have the characters use DVDs rather than videotape...

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"Goodbye, freak," Uncle Vernon declared as he dumped a small wooden crate in with some suitcases that were waiting to be taken up to the Boeing 747 waiting out on the tarmac. The crate had some holes in it, so the brat inside could breathe. Vernon wasn't a monster, after all – he was only looking out for his family.

Right?

After all, it had been rather easy to slip past security, and drop the crate off with the luggage. Vernon stared as the crate was raised into the airplane.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it now.

Vernon was still watching when the plane left the ground. Japan would be a better place for the little freak anyway. Far away, halfway around the world, where his freakishness wouldn't contaminate his own family.

Good riddance.

The following day, news reached Vernon of a horrific airplane crash over the Pacific. A quick check confirmed that it was the same airplane he had dumped the freak on. For a few moments, Vernon was silent with his thoughts, not really knowing what to think.

Finally, he shrugged. "Tough break, freak."

At the same time, on the other side of the world, a Russian Spetznaz officer named Andrei Kalinin was holding two children in his arms. One, a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy of about three years of age, was crying softly. The other, a baby with black hair and green eyes, was still asleep. Kalinin grunted slightly. Those were the only two survivors, and if he ever found out who dumped a baby in a wooden crate,... well, let's just say that Kalinin was a Spetznaz officer for a _reason_.

Somehow, on the other side of the world, Vernon got a cold chill running over his spine. He shook it off, thinking it was a draft, and went to close the window.

00000 time skip 00000

Years passed, Harry and Sousuke are put in a russian orphanage, recruited by the KGB, drilled as assassins, and sent after a local leader of the Mujahedin in afghanistan. They fail their mission, are recruited by the leader, adopted, and used as soldiers by the man they failed to kill. After fighting the Russian forces they once belonged to, they are captured by Kalinin's forces, and once agin, reunited with him. After this, both are receiving specialized Spetznaz training from Kalinin.

00000 post time skip 00000

After losing Kalinin in the jungles of Cambodia, Harry and Sousuke, as brothers, travel the Middle East as guerilla fighters for hire, expanding their skills, until one day...

"Dinner," Sousuke announced as the bird fell from the air.

Harry merely nodded, letting Sousuke pick up the one-shot-one-killed bird that had been flying straight to them.

"Strange," Sousuke announced, staring at what looked like a piece of paper. Harry shuffled closer.

"Paper?"

Sousuke nodded, then shrugged. "Might be booby-trapped."

"It's paper," Harry refuted, pointing to the folder piece of paper.

"Addressed to you," Sousuke said, pointing to the writing on the folder paper.

At the same time, Harry and Sousuke dropped low, one spinning right, the other left, until they had completed a full circle. "Doesn't look like an ambush," Harry muttered, staring down the sights of his Glock.

"Then who would know to send that message to you?" Sousuke asked.

"Someone clever enough to ambush us won't ruin it by pointing out my exact location," Harry said.

"True. Check it for poisons," Sousuke said. "I'll stand guard."

"Thanks, brother," Harry muttered, as he picked up a small stick, using it to pry open the string holding the note tied to the strange bird. After doing so, he used the same stick to pry open the letter. "Harry Potter, dune 17, Arabian desert," Harry muttered. "Strange." He pried open the letter, and read its contents, then, despite himself, let out a small whistle.

Sousuke gleaned over his shoulder, and read the note. "That explains why you have always been able to do those strange things."

"Time-saving things," Harry corrected. "Cleaning a weapon by waving my hand is a lot quicker than doing it the old-fashioned way."

"So, are you going to go?" Sousuke requested. "It does not look booby-trapped or poisoned."

"But it may be a trap," Harry said, and pointed with his stick to one line. "We expect your owl...," his voice trailed off. "Do you think we should not have killed Dinner?"

Sousuke shrugged. "They'll send another one if we need it."

Harry nodded, picked up Dinner the owl, and walked to the small campfire, intent of roasting the bird. After plucking it, of course. He still hadn't forgotten what had happened last time. Sousuke hadn't stopped giving him grief over it for _days_.

Harry sat down to pluck the bird. It was why he was glad to have his brother near. The older boy always seemed to know what to do, or how to do it. Apart from a few tricks – which he now knew to be 'magic' – he could never compare to his brother's prowess as a soldier.

But then again, it was why he was only ten – eleven today, Harry realized, and his brother was thirteen.

00000 some shopping with Hagrid 00000

"Happy birthday, Harry," the half-giant man said with a broad smile, presenting Harry with a white owl in a cage.

Harry, having never received a real birthday present before, had to search a bit for the correct response. He wanted to learn more about this 'magic', and he had learned enough from the KGB's assassination courses to know what he needed to fit in somewhat. "Thank you, Sir," he finally replied, looking at the owl. "It is a very considerate gift to bring me an emergency ration of fresh food."

Hagrid stared with open mouth at what Harry had just said, while the snow-white owl looked affronted to the extreme.

"Ah... no, Harry. Owls carry mail. You're not supposed to eat them."

Harry nodded. "I didn't know that." He looked at the owl again. "It looks like a fine specimen, very healthy. It certainly looks capable." At this, the affronted look changed into a preen.

"Aren't you going to name her?" Hagrid asked. "Usually, people give names to their pets." He had soon learned that Harry had a very... different... view of life. Having two people shove firearms in your face drives the point home quite well.

Harry and Sousuke had called every owl that approached them 'Dinner', for their ease of capture, but Harry realized, after what Hagrid had said, that such a reference would not be appreciated in this setting. He rubbed his chin. "That seems like a sound tactical advice, a way to differentiate between owls of different people. I think I shall name her... Hedwig."

The white owl made an agreeing noise, and Harry nodded. "It seems to appreciate it, Sir."

"Just call me Hagrid, I'm not much of a 'Sir'," the gentle half-giant said, shaking his head slightly at the strange Harry he was escorting. True, the boy was polite, calm, and composed, not at all phased by anything that happened to or around him, but the things he said...

00000 Sorting 00000

As Harry sat down, feeling a little troubled by people being to his back he could not see, he took in the room one more time. Even though he knew where everything was, he still re-verified his data.

The KGB had been nothing if not thorough in his ability to survey a room with one glance, and retain the information for future use. It was a useful skill for an assassin to have.

The hat flopped down over his eyes, and for one moment Harry felt the curious sensation of the Sorting Hat _blinking_.

_That... my God, child. The things you have seen, done, and have done to you... _

Harry frowned slightly, and looked around. Nobody seemed to be speaking to him, although everyone _was_ staring at him.

_Sir?_

_Very good, child. You figure it out quicker than most. Now. With your abilities... I don't know where to place you. You have the bravery to go into Gryffindor, although your training has taught you not to take stupid risks unless necessary. You do not know the value of friendship, but you _do _know the value of loyalty, and so, Hufflepuff could be well for you. You have a mind that is keen to learn – if only to pervert your learning into weapons of war. Ravenclaw would help you well here. You are able, and driven. You are also quite determined to make yourself strong and powerful – that is a trait of Slytherin. _

_Chose, young Harry. Tell me your desires._

Harry blinked again, and thought. _Sir, I do not understand, Sir. I was told you were to Sort me, Sir. _

_I am not a drill sergeant, and this is not the Russian Special Forces, Harry. You don't need to speak like that here. And yes, I want your input._

Harry looked through the room to the various people he had met. Draco Malfoy had not left a favourable impression. On the other hand, Hermione Granger had helped Neville Longbottom retrieve his toad. _Gryffindor, Sir. I have met two of its members already, and they have left favourable impressions._

The Hat stared at his mind for a few seconds longer, before seemingly nodding. _Very well, Harry. You will go to _Gryffindor!

The Gryffindor table exploded with cheers and howls, two redheaded twins starting a dance. Harry ignored them, and walked straight to Hermione and Neville. He had helped them retrieve the toad in question. He had learned to place excellent traps for amphibians in the jungles of Cambodia. Hermione had been put out, but Neville was happy.

"May I join you?" he asked on a formal tone of the two only people he knew here.

"Sure, Harry!" Neville said, smiling up at him, and Harry formally sat down, his back straight, staring dead ahead, waiting for the command to eat. Although there was no food on the table yet.

"You're not going to start placing traps again, are you?" Hermione asked in a bit of a huff.

Harry glanced at Neville. "Has your toad escaped again?" he asked levelly. The boy started shaking his head, and Harry looked at Hermione. "Unless there is another creature that has escaped, there is no reason for me to place traps at this time, unless we are required to hunt for food, in which case I could suggest the owls. They are easy prey, and taste quite satisfactory."

Neville buried covered his mouth with his hands, trying not to burst out laughing, while Hermione almost exploded at Harry.

00000 Charms class 00000

"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry intoned perfectly, waving his wand the way Professor Flitwick had demonstrated. The feather started to fly, and Harry moved his wand, making the feather follow.

"Very good, Mister Potter! Five points to Gryffindor!" the tiny Charms Professor said.

"Sir! Thank you, Sir!" Harry said, in a perfect drill-cadet voice, the same he had perfected in the KGB and in the Spetznaz. "May I ask a question, Sir?"

"Of course, Mister Potter!" Flitwick said agreeably, grinning widely.

"What are the tactical limitations of this spell? Is there a maximum weight limit that can be lifted, a maximum speed at which it can be moved, or a limitation to the object that can be levitated? Can it be used on living creatures?"

Flitwick blinked a few times in amazement, then grinned. "The weight and speed are determined by the strength of your magic, Mister Potter. No, Wingardium Leviosa can not be used on a living creature – the incantation for that spell is _mobilicorpus_, and it's wand movements are as such," the Charms Professor demonstrated. "But you will learn that spell in fourth year."

Harry nodded, copying the incantation and the movements down on his parchment using a muggle pencil. Much easier than the quills. "May I ask what for, Mister Potter?"

"Sir, I am trying to determine the practical uses of this spell in combat situations. The weight question was asked to see if it were practically possible to levitate a large and heavy object – say, a boulder, an anvil, or a piano, above the target, then stop the spell. The speed part was related to this – the faster one can move an object, the faster one can bring it into tactical readiness. There is no limitation on the object, safe for it be inanimate or non-organic. Hence the boulder, the anvil, or the piano examples. As one can not use the spell to move an animal or human, one can not levitate them off a cliff or a tall building."

The Charms Professor gaped at Harry, while the room was deathly quiet. Neville was chortling again, while Hermione was running red.

"However, I will research the spell called _mobilicorpus_ for this event. Thank you, Sir!" Harry finished.

"Q-quite alright, Mister Potter," Filius Flitwick mustered, his smile slowly returning. "I think you will make an interesting student. I can not wait to see your... tactical preparation... on the second spell we will learn." He looked at the room. "Now, has everyone been able to execute this spell?"

The pupils grunted slowly, and returned to work. Neville's spell work needed a lot of help, and Harry was more than glad to help him.

After all, they were in the same unit, and it was required of people in the same unit to assist each other in any and all cases possible.

00000 Transfiguration 00000

Harry watched as McGonagall demonstrated how to change a matchstick into a needle.

That spell, like the levitation spell, had so many uses the boy had performed it nearly half a dozen times, flawlessly, before his mind had finished coming up with one idea after another.

"Very well done, Mister Potter!" McGonagall said, practically ecstatic. "Ten points to Gryffindor!"

"Ma'am! Thank you, ma'am!" Harry said, almost jumping out of his seat to stand at attention. The woman startled clearly at this tone, but then nodded.

"May I ask a question, Ma'am?" Harry asked, hearing Hermione mutter, _oh, no, here we go again..._

"Of course you may, Mister Potter. You are here to learn, after all!"

"Thank you, Ma'am. This spell, does it only change matchsticks into needles? Or, would it work on a small piece of wood without the sulphur head as well? Does the size of the matchstick involve modifying the spell? I know of very large matchsticks sometimes used to light large campfires or similar. If one were to use this spell on a matchstick of that size, would one get a needle the size of a small javelin?"

"Good questions, Mister Potter. The first, yes, it would work on any sufficiently small piece of wood. The spell makes slight modifications to texture and elements, but not too large changes to shape and size. If you could find some large matchsticks, then yes, it would be possible to change them into very large needles."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Ma'am."

_Don't ask..._ Harry heard Hermione mutter as McGonagall then proceeded to ask him why he posed those specific question.

"In Charms Class we have learned the Levitation Charm, Ma'am. In combination with needles, the charm can be quite deadly, pushing a needle through a sensitive or lethal spot on an opponent. The eyes, for instance, or the temples, would be particularly vulnerable to this approach. Using larger matchsticks, one would be able to create larger needles, small spears practically, which would then be able to do serious damage to other parts of the body. One could immobilize or paralyse a person using the correct application. And yet, all one had on him when passing through security would be a wand and a book of matches."

McGonagall blinked, two, three, four times. "Are you planning a war, Mister Potter?"

"One should always be prepared, Ma'am," Harry replied with a calm voice, hearing Hermione thunk her head on the desk, while Neville chortled quietly nearby.

00000 Potions 00000

Harry had listened to Snape's speech with a blank look but a large mental smile. This class was going to deal with the fun stuff... poisons. Hallucinogens. He didn't understand the references to brewing glory or bottling fame – but, as usual, he was sure that those aspects of the course would be disclosed at a later date.

"Potter!" the Professor barged into his thoughts.

Harry jumped out of his seat, snapping at attention, coming down to the cold and harsh reality with a start, and realizing that he had probably overreacted. But, once committed, a soldier should not deviate from his course of action, and so, Harry barked, "Sir! Yes, Sir!"

The man blinked twice. "Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter. Sit down, and tell me what I would get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

He saw Hermione's hand go up. He, however, had no idea to the answer. "Sir! I don't know, Sir!" he replied, in the exact same manner as he would fess up to ignorance in the KGB: with head held high and ready to accept any punishment handed out for dereliction of duty.

"Fame isn't everything, isn't it Potter?" Snape sneered. "Let's try this again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry had heard of that term. A bezoar was a catch-all for a lot of poisons and diseases. "A bezoar can be found in the stomach of cats, rodents, and certain other mammalian animals. The most effective ones come from goats," Harry replied. The watching students drew breath, not having expecting Harry to knew that one, either. Thankfully, he had lived through guerilla combat. He had to know unconventional medicine.

Snape blinked. "So, it seems that our resident celebrity knows at least how to keep himself from being poisoned."

"Sir, yes, Sir! Anti-poisoning agents were an integral part of my training, Sir!" Harry replied to the implied question.

Snape stalked closer. "Tell me, Potter. What kind of 'training' would that be?"

"Sir! I am not at liberty to disclose the black operations training I have undergone with the KGB, Sir! However, I was captured by, then adopted into, the Afghan resistance called the Mujahedin, with whom I spent years fighting guerilla combat, Sir! After being rescued by Russian Spetznaz Special Forces, I was subjected to Spetznaz training, Sir! After that, I broke away and became an independent guerilla soldier for hire, Sir!"

Snape's breath stunk as the man breathed directly into Harry's face. "Not only arrogant, but a pathological liar as well, Potter?"

Harry blinked, before the first trace of emotion appeared on his face.

Snape erected himself, and took a step back, making it look deliberate and not out of the startled realization that this boy could look dangerous simply by dropping his mouth into a scowl and narrowing his eyes. With deft precision, Harry opened his robes, dropped them over his chair, took off his sweater, folded it, and placed it on his desk. His shirt was removed just as fast, and it, too, was folded neatly.

The moment the boy had started to strip, Snape started to stare. Even by simply removing his robes, the boy's stance showed that something was _off_ about him. When the sweater came off, it became apparent that the boy had an impressive array of muscles on his torso.

And when the shirt came off, it was clear that his body was riddled with scars. Elongated ones obviously made by knives. Round ones made by bullets. Irregular ones made by shrapnel. Even a patch on his side that was obviously a scar from a burn wound.

He bent, starting on his pants. It would not be the first time he had been subjected to a full medical examination in the presence of females. To Harry, there was no shame in nudity.

Hold a dying comrade as he cried in pain, his blood coating your hands as you hold him, and little things like nudity no longer bother you.

"You have not been with your guardians," Snape stated.

"I have no guardians, Sir! Only a brother who has always been at my side, Sir! Unfortunately, he was not invited to join this school, Sir!" Harry said, standing up, realizing he was not required to strip further.

"Get dressed, Potter. Enough of your attention-seeking tricks. Now, spread into pairs. We'll brew a boil-removing potion."

Harry dressed himself. Most of the girls were staring at him, as his robes showed no hint of the musculature he possessed, while the boys stared at him for the plethora of scars he had displayed.

However, the same thought was present in the minds of both the students and the teacher. _What had happened to Harry Potter?_

As Snape praised Malfoy for his stewing of horned slugs, when Harry lifted an eyebrow at what happened to Neville Longbottom. His cauldron had melted, and the horrible acid-like potion seemed to melt through anything. Harry slowly got up on his chair as the potion swept across the floor, eating shoes, and _causing_ boils to appear to whomever was unfortunate enough to be touched by it. Neville had been standing right over the potion as it exploded in his face, and was now covered by both potion and angry red boils.

Harry made notes as Snape berated Neville. _Adding the Porcupine Quills before taking the cauldron of the fire creates a very interesting acid with added biological warfare properties,_ he wrote down. This was indeed going to prove to be an interesting class.

"Potter! Why did you not tell him not to add the quills?"

"Sir! My apologies, Sir! I didn't know, Sir!" Snape had not been expecting that reaction. "Thank you for your constructive criticism, Sir! I shall work on my weak spots, Sir!"

Snape kept shooting glances at Harry throughout class, but found nothing else to say or do, apparently. The man seemed... startled by Harry.

"Why do you react that way, Harry?" Hermione asked him after the period ended.

"I have been negligent, Hermione. I should have know that the order of Neville's ingredient was incorrect. It did not matter this was my first class, the Professor was correct. Sometimes we need to act without proper information, and preparation is key to any battle. One can not act, nor move, without intelligence, and preparation. The Professor told me in different words that I must be prepared for any eventuality. He is a good teacher and a wise instructor. The KGB has taught me the same skills, however, I was negligent in not exercising those skills here. After dinner, I shall proceed to the library to research this subject, as well as the others."

Hermione just stared at him.

Without either of them knowing, just inside his classroom, Snape had overheard everything Harry had said. As usual, the boy spoke with a loud and clear voice. "I can't believe that brat actually thinks I did this to help him..." Snape shook his head. "This is unbelievable."

00000 Library 00000

"Excuse me, Ma'am," Harry asked the librarian when closing time was approaching.

"Yes, Mr Potter?" Madam Pince, the Librarian, had heard of Harry – just like everybody else. Not only was he very recognizable, but his posture and his manners stood him out, too.

"I've made notes regarding Potions," Harry explained, holding up a small stack of parchment, the fruit of multiple hours worth of scouring over various Potions texts – with the help of Madam Pince, of course. "I have some safety concerns, and as a Librarian, I am sure you know how to help me. First, I want to make a backup copy – should something happen to these notes, I have a second copy. Second, I'd like to make sure that my notes can not be copied by anyone but myself. And third, maybe there is a way to encrypt them, so that not only can nobody makes copies, but only I can read them."

"Well, Mr Potter, that's quite a list," the librarian said, standing up. "Wait one moment." She walked into the vast library of Hogwarts, returning half a minute later with a small book. "Duplications and Protections – a writer's guide to Copyright Charms. This should help you, Mr Potter."

Harry accepted the book. "Thank you, Ma'am. You have been most helpful!" Harry said, snapping at attention, turning on his heel, and walking away.

That evening, Harry duplicated his notes. He then warden them against copying, and tried to copy them again. At the back of the book, he found something that made a small smile appear.

Apparently, there _was_ a way to ensure that copyright-protected works _could_ be copied. After all, there was no protection that could not be broken, just as there was no security that could not be circumvented.

Harry's KGB assassin training had taught him that. Some more practice enabled him to copy his copyright-protected notes.

Taking out one of his schoolbooks, One thousand magical herbs and fungi, Harry cast the copyright-piercing duplication charm at it. The book flashed for a few moments, and refused to be copied.

He read over the section in the copyright-book again, and nodded to himself. Some charms were more strict than others.

By the time that everyone in his dorm was snoring, Harry had figured out how to bypass the copyright charms on his schoolbooks.

Not that he needed extra copies of his schoolbooks. No, he needed copies of the more valuable works in the Hogwarts Library – without anyone knowing that he had them. That would enable him to read ahead, learn what he needed to learn, at his own pace, with no regards for library due dates. And without regard to nose people, too. Some of his fellow students had no concept of the word 'privacy', and it bugged Harry, who had been brought up with secrets, to see people with so few regard for them.

00000 Broom flying 00000

Harry stood and watched, holding the very responsive broom in his hands, as he saw Neville take a horrible fall. Judging from the snapping sound, it was at least a broken wrist.

Harry winced. Broken wrists were notorious for being hard to heal, and the poor boy would be out of commission for six weeks, if not more. When he saw Malfoy pick up Neville Remembrall, it was clear that the blond had no intention of returning it to its rightful owner.

When Malfoy made to mount his brook again, he froze when he felt something jabbed in his ribs from behind.

"You will give that to me," Harry's cold voice muttered. Everyone was staring at him, so his low-kept voice still reached the people present. "I do not like bullies that pick on people who are not present to defend themselves."

"And what are you going to do about it, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, his voice not betraying his true emotions.

"I will help those in my unit," Harry declared. "If that means shooting you, I will do so." The voice lacked even the usual infliction, it was cold, and flat, and utterly devoid of emotion.

"You wouldn't dare, Potter," Malfoy said, motioning sharply to one side.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw one of the brutes that usually accompanied Malfoy move to intercept him. Harry's free hand dove into his robes, drawing his spare Glock, and firing in a single move.

In front of the brute, the ground tore up as the bullet impacted the soil, stopping him dead in his tracks. In front of Harry, Malfoy jumped, along with the rest of the pureblood children. Only the Muggleborn knew what a gun was, and how much noise one could make.

It is true what was said – fear of the unknown is the greatest fear of all. Not knowing what Harry had done, Malfoy could honestly said he had never been more scared. Without an audible incantation, all Malfoy had heard was the sharp _crack_ of Harry's gun going off.

"Now, Malfoy, return that property to me."

Malfoy could only nod, holding out the Remembrall. Harry dropped the Glock back in his shoulder harness, covering it deftly with his thick robes, and grabbing the sphere. "Thank you, Malfoy."

"You will regret this, Potter," Malfoy muttered.

"I have been marked for death by worse, Malfoy," Harry said, turning to walk away. "And yet I am still alive, and they are not."

"Is that a threat!?" Malfoy blustered, standing up from where he had sunk to his knees after Harry had let him go.

"Statement of fact," Harry corrected.

"Bloody hell," Ron Weasley muttered.

"Harry, you're going to get us into trouble!" Hermione shouted. "You are so lucky that Madam Hooch wasn't here! Honestly, Harry..."

She stopped when Harry focused his eyes on her. "The Unit is Family, the Unit is Father, and the Unit is mother. We live for the Unit, we die for the Unit. If a member of the Unit is threatened, we are all threatened. If a member of the Unit is under attack, we are _all_ under attack."

Hermione's mouth opened an closed rhythmically.

"Cor Blimey," Ron muttered as everyone stared at him.

Harry looked at the gaping students. "Attack a member of Gryffindor, and you will find me there, defending them. Is that understood?"

Everyone merely nodded mutely, unable to utter a single word until Madam Hooch returned.

That evening, Harry was pleasantly surprised to see that Neville had already been released from the infirmary. Magic was apparently a way better way of healing. Returning the other boy's property, Harry had to endure as Hermione recounted what had happened, interjecting personal commentary along the way.

"You really threatened to kill Malfoy?" Neville asked, his eyes large.

Harry shook his head. "I explained the rules of engagement. I believe he understood them."

It was not long after that, when dinner wound down, that Professor McGonagall came to collect him. The Headmaster wanted a word.

Ignoring Hermione's 'I told you so', he merely dipped his head to tell Neville that everything was alright. Snapping his head upright, he walked out of the Great Hall, head high, shoulders back, not in the least bit concerned. He was not afraid.

Watching the older woman disable the security system (well done, and practically impossible to crack, if the password was changed on a regular basis, of course), Harry followed her up the revolving stairs to the Headmaster's office. Finally arriving, he strode in without a care in the world, snapped at attention in front of the huge desk, saluted, and snapped out,

"First Year Student Harry Potter reporting as ordered, _Sir!_" He added just enough emphasis to the last word to indicate a subtle barb underneath the respect.

"Ah, yes, Harry. Good to see you," the Headmaster said with a friendly smile. "Would you care for a Lemon Drop?"

Harry dropped his arm, and stood at-ease without being asked. "Not for the moment, _Sir_!"

"Please, sit down, Harry."

Harry dropped his at-ease posture, and slipped formally into one of the chairs in front of the desk, watching out of the corner of his eye that McGonagall sat down as well, facing him. This was to be an interrogation, then. Harry drew a breath and readied himself to be formally interrogated.

"There has been a complain against you, Harry," the Headmaster said, still with that kindly smile. "Draco Malfoy has reported to his Head of House that you threatened to kill him, then used magic to make one of his friends stop from intervening."

"Mister Malfoy is a liar."

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall waited close to ten seconds before they realized that Harry wasn't going to say anything else, and could, quite conceivably, sit there until pigs could fly and chickens developed teeth.

"I see," Dumbledore said. "You are denying the charge?"

"Of course," Harry said, once again lapsing into silence.

Again, close to ten seconds passed, before Dumbledore asked his next question, his jovial tone dropping slightly. "Then perhaps you can tell us what _did_ happen this afternoon?"

"I could," Harry replied.

Dumbledore's smile widened slightly, and the jovial tone resumed, now that he understood the little game Harry was playing. Now, with permission, the Headmaster asked," What happened this afternoon, Harry?"

"I observed Draco Malfoy stealing the property of Neville Longbottom. I requested he return the stolen property. I explained to him what the rules of engagement are between myself and himself should he not comply. I believe he understood them, for he returned the property to me, which I have subsequently delivered to Neville upon his return to the Great Hall for dinner."

"I do believe that could be constituted as a threat, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"I do not believe in threats, _Sir!_" Harry said. "had I wished to threaten Draco Malfoy, you would have been holding his funeral."

McGonagall gasped.

"Surely you don't mean that, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Why waste a threat? This afternoon, I merely explained the rules of engagement. I advised Draco Malfoy that returning the property would call off hostilities on my part. I also advised him that, should he chose to carry out his threat of physical retaliation against me, that it would be best for it to succeed on the first attempt – as the last people who dared use physical violence against me are now dead."

Again, McGonagall gasped.

"You mean to tell me, Harry, that you have killed someone?"

"I was a soldier, _Sir!_ I have become very good at my profession, _Sir!_"

Dumbledore looked sad. "I must tell you that even casual uses of force are not allowed within the school, and even threatening someone with use of force is forbidden."

"Then perhaps you should be having this same conversation with Draco Malfoy. He was the thief." Harry stood up, breaking protocol for a meeting with two superior officers. "Sir, Ma'am, I will advise you upon the rules of engagement I have explained to the others. Gryffindor is my Unit. The Unit is Family, father, mother, brother, and sister. I live and I die for my Unit, and I will defend any of them, as I will expect them to defend me. Are you requesting of me that I stand by, idly, as members of my unit are being stolen from, or worse?"

"I ask you to exercise discretion," Dumbledore said, not really knowing how to reply.

"I see," Harry said, snapping his head up. "In that case, Sir, I wish to lodge a formal complaint against the bias within this school, for it seems that I am the only one who is subjected to this interrogation. I must also lodge a formal complaint against Draco Malfoy, for it was his thievery and his idle threats to my physical wellbeing that prompted my response. I also wish to lodge a formal complaint against the Head of House of Draco Malfoy for not bringing these details to your attention. Lastly, I wish to lodge a formal complaint against the 'friend' in question, who attempted to attack me in the back, had I not deterred him."

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall stared at Harry with open mouths.

"I... will talk to the parties in question," Dumbledore finally replied.

Harry nodded. "Thank you, _Sir!_ I am looking forward to your rightful reaction within the next few days, so that I can let this matter drop."

"That again, could be seen as a threat," Dumbledore said, gently, with a grandfatherly smile.

Harry shook his head. "As a good Specialist, I have excess documentation and eyewitness reports of the events in question, duplicated in multiple locations, of course. Per your request, I shall turn these materials over to you to aid in your investigation."

"Minus the duplicates, of course," Dumbledore muttered, his smile seeming frozen, and the twinkling in his eyes suspiciously absent.

"Of course, _Sir!_ It would not do to find myself without those materials should future events force a second investigation to occur," Harry delivered his line with perfectly flat intonation.

"And who would launch a second investigation, Mr Potter?" McGonagall finally demanded.

"Any agency that wishes to investigate it, Ma'am," Harry replied. "Of course, I am not expecting any agency to have a need for a re-examination, however, I have been taught to be thorough."

"Of course," Dumbledore muttered. "You can go, Mister Potter."

Harry snapped a solute, inwardly quite pleased by being called 'Mister Potter' by the Headmaster, rather than 'Harry'. He turned on his heel, and marched from the room.

"He is dangerous, Albus," McGonagall said, turning to the Headmaster.

"Only to those who threaten him or those he considers his," Dumbledore replied. "He is a focused worker, highly intelligent, very observing, and utterly, totally ruthless to those he considers enemies. However, this morning, he has risked his own life to protect the property of Mr Longbottom. And right now, he risked harsh punishment from us, yet refused to budge. That tells me that, not only will he not harm those who do not harm him or his, he will do everything in his power to protect them." He sighed. "Best send in Severus, Minerva. I believe I shall have to tell him to reign in his Slytherins. I would not give a Knut for their lives should they continue to earn Harry's ire."

"He will not be happy with that, Albus."

Albus drew a breath. "We need Harry, Minerva. I can not expel him, for he would return to the Middle East to fight in whatever war pays him the most. And I believe that Severus would do well not to unduly antagonize Mr Potter... because I am well aware he never explained the unknown magic he has used to stop Mr Goyle, and I do not believe for one moment that young Harry has only his wand as a weapon. He was trained to survive by the situation he has found himself in, and I would not give a Knut for Severus' life anymore than I would for the other Slytherins should Harry chose Severus for an enemy."

"Do you honestly think that Mr Potter can kill? And Severus is a powerful wizard in his own right," McGonagall replied.

"I have seen many things in my life, Minerva, and one of the things I duly hope never to see again is the frightening power of an enraged Muggle fighting a war. Harry was trained in Muggle warfare tactics. Severus would never know he was under attack before his own brains would decorate the walls around him."

McGonagall swallowed deeply. "I will ask Severus to stop by," she muttered, standing up and leaving the office.

00000 training 00000

Harry shot up from where he had slept – underneath his bed. After years of living on the run, as a guerilla fighter, a good place to sleep for him was a concealed one. Comfort never had been part of his life, not even in the orphanage before the KGB got to him, not that he remembered much from that period.

As such, Harry had some blankets, and crawled underneath his bed to sleep, leaving some rolled-up blankets as a diversion in his bed.

Having not slept more than fours hours at a stretch for years, Harry was wide awake long before anyone else was. Crawling out from underneath his bed, he dressed himself in some very comfortable fatigues, and slipped out of the Common Room – and even the Hogwarts building.

The sun was just peeking above the horizon, and Harry guesstimated the time to be about 6 am. Checking the watch he had found in the garbage – the same watch he had painstakingly tried to fix before trying his 'cheating' to it – he confirmed his thoughts. It was always good not to rely on your equipment too much, one day you may not have it.

He started a leisurely jog around the lake to warm himself up. After the warm-up lap, he set out a run, running two more trips around the lake to get in a decent workout.

Harry determined that he would need to get a backpack from somewhere, and load it with books, to simulate running under full gear. After his run, he found himself a tree with a nice, sturdy-looking branch that seemed capable of holding his weight.

Jumping up, he grabbed hold, confirming his thoughts, and started doing pull-ups until his arms screamed at him, which took about one hundred revolutions.

Harry was in excellent shape.

Next, he held on to the branch, spreading his arms a bit further apart, and pulling his legs up. Threading them through his arms, up and over the branch so that his knees held on to the branch, he let go, and started doing vertical crunches, working against gravity all the way.

Halfway through his routine, he was aware that someone was watching.

When he finished, he grabbed hold of the branch with his hands, unhooked his legs, and let himself fall backward, flipping over in mid-fall, and landing perfectly on his feet.

"Good morning, Neville," Harry greeted.

"Good morning, Harry," Neville muttered, staring at the other boy with awe.

"Did you need something?" Harry finally asked, when Neville made no point to ask or say anything.

"W-well... after yesterday, with Malfoy and all... and now, seeing you train... could you... I mean, do you think... you could help me?"

Harry stared at Neville. The other boy had been cordial, a little shy and quiet perhaps, but mostly cordial. It was the first time he sounded nervous. "Perhaps," Harry said. "If I train you, it will be as I have been trained."

"Y-you mean it? You'll help me?" Neville looked actually as if he expected something else.

"It will not be easy. In fact, I can guarantee that you will actively dislike me when this is over. In fact, I think it likely you will hate me. I will do whatever it takes to motivate you to do what needs to be done. You will learn not to be bothered by pain. I will bring out strengths and reserves you didn't even know you had, then make you exhaust them. In return, you will become the best you can be."

Neville swallowed. "You mean it? You're not going to give up on me?"

"Only for as long as you do not give up on yourself," Harry replied. "I will hex you before I will give up on you, but only if you will give it your all."

Neville nodded. "That sounds fine with me. I'm tired of being a laughingstock."

Harry nodded once. "Alright. We shall begin immediately, with physical exercise. I want you to run for three minutes, walk for three minutes, and alternate two more times. The first time will get your blood flowing. The second time will make you work for it. The third time will show me if you have the character to continue. Begin."

Neville stared, then blinked, then set out a jog. "Run, Neville. If I want you to jog, I will tell you to jog."

The boy nodded, and increased his pace. Harry checked his watch, running leisurely next to Neville, even if he had already done his running for the day. This was the very basics, just to get Neville started on a cardiovascular workout, exactly the way his own endurance had been built up. After three minutes, he told Neville to walk. The boy was already breathing hard.

The second time made Neville work for it, just as Harry had said. The other boy had no endurance nor physique whatsoever.

The third time, Harry took out the 'verbal abuse' he had learned from his own drill sergeants in order to 'motivate' Neville into finishing. The boy glared at him when he was doing his three-minute walk.

"I told you that you would hate me when this is over," Harry declared. "Do your three minutes walk. Tomorrow, we repeat." Not listening for an answer, Harry turned, took out his wand, and brandished it at a large branch that had fallen just outside of the Forbidden Forest.

Neville did his three minutes, and finished them before staring at Harry as he floated the large piece of wood into the air, both hands clenching his wand as he channeled the power required to do so. When the large branch finally hit the floor once more, Neville walked up.

"That was incredible, Harry."

"It gets better," Harry said. "I think, like muscles, Magic is something that needs to be built up. I will try and train myself into its use to make sure I am as strong magically as I am physically." Without interruption, Harry motioning to the ground. "Drop to the ground, and give me five push-ups, before turning and give me five sit-ups."

Neville groaned as he did as instructed.

00000 Halloween 00000

Harry ignored the festive decorations, the live bats, or the gold plates. His only interest was in the food – his training had progressed to where he was now pushing his magic as hard as he was pushing his body, and he required sustenance.

Next to him, Neville was just as interested in the food. After a month and a half of 'studying' with Harry, he had gained confidence, a leaner, meaner body, and a better control over his magic. Really, all he needed was some confidence, and Harry's training provided self-confidence in _spades_.

Especially after Neville punched out Malfoy with a single hit.

That was when it really came together for the boy, when he realized just how much he had changed, and was still changing.

Together, the two attacked their food.

Just when they were diving for seconds, Professor Quirell came sprinting into the Great Hall. "Troll... in the dungeons... thought you ought to know," he said, before sinking to the floor in a dead faint.

Harry's eyes flickered over the Gryffindor table, counting heads. He came up one short. He recounted, this time identifying faces. He still came up one short.

"Where is Hermione?" Harry's voice cracked across the room before Professor Dumbledore's fire-cracking wand could bring silence.

Where the great man's magic failed, Harry's no-nonsense obey-me-or-die voice succeeded, and silence descended across the Great Hall. Harry's eyes roamed the table, asking anyone whether they had the guts to make him repeat his question.

"She's... crying the girl's bathroom," Ron muttered.

"And why is that?" Harry demanded.

"I told her she's a nightmare," the redhead muttered.

Harry nodded. "For me, you are no longer a member of this unit."

"Prefects! Lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!" Dumbledore's voice said, interrupting whatever statement Ron was about to make. As the people shifted to leave the room, still in deathly silence, Harry caught Neville's eye. The other boy sighed, deflated, then drew a breath, and nodded.

They made a left turn where everyone made a right, and set in a faster-than-jogging pace to the bathroom in question, arriving just in time to see the gigantic troll waddle its way inside. A scream perforated the air.

"Hermione," Harry muttered, drawing his Glock. This was no time for silly wand-waving. He sprinted, leaving Neville behind, rolled across the threshold of the door, drawing an immediate bead on his larger-than-life target.

Harry could hit a moving human-sized target at fifty paces with his pistol. No way was he going to miss a twelve-foot troll standing right in front of him. The recoil jerked through his body as the crack rebounded off the walls, the slug hitting the Troll dead-centre on the forehead.

It only seemed to piss the monster off, as it turned to face Harry, bringing its gigantic club up. Harry blinked once, then proceeded to empty his clip on the monster, targeting centre-chest, forehead, then the last slug at one of its eyes.

The last bullet was the only one that did damage, literally making the creature howl with pain as it held a bleeding eye.

Dropping his gun, useless without bullets, he drew his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" He shouted, pointing at the nearest sink.

Harry had been levitating trees. A porcelain sink attached to a wall wasn't about to offer any significant challenge, and with a horrible groaning noise it ripped away from the wall. Jerking his wand, Harry smashed the floating sink against the troll's skull.

It stopped screaming and trashing about, before sinking to its knees, and toppling over. Retrieving his gun with his left hand, Harry cautiously approached it. "It's not dead," he muttered. "How can it not be dead?" He shook his head, grabbed a hand-grenade from his pocket, stuffed it into the creature's mouth, and pulled the pin. "Grenade! Down!" he shouted to Neville and Hermione, one standing in the doorway with a shocked look on his face, the other pale and frozen at the sight.

Neville ducked. Hermione was completely frozen. Harry jumped her, grabbed her, and pulled her to the floor a mere second before the grenade exploded, taking off the Troll's head, showering the bathroom with blood, gore, and bits of skull.

"Is it dead?" Hermione muttered from below Harry, who stood up, and helped her to her feet.

"It may survive 9mm bullets, but there's no way it can survive without a head," Harry said, pointing to the corpse. Hermione seemed to pale even further, right before McGonagall stormed into the room.

She started by looking angry, before taking a long, hard, look at the troll, and paled. "Target has been eliminated. You may abandoned the students' confinement to quarters, Ma'am," Harry reported dutifully, snapping at attention before her.

Snape entered second, and his usual pale features whitened further at the sight of a headless troll, and a redecorated bathroom – water spewing from the ripped up guts of a sink, hundreds of porcelain ex-sink chips, blood, brains, and skull pieces.

"What have you done, Potter?"

"Eliminated the target, Sir!" harry reported calmly. "It proved more resistant than originally planned, but the backup plan worked perfectly."

"Backup plan?" Snape made the mistake of asking.

"When finesse fails, use of massive quantities of explosives usually accomplishes the goal," Harry quoted. Truthfully, the quote was usually made using C4, but Harry knew Semtex better than C4, so any explosive would do, really.

"Massive explosions?" Snape muttered, looking at the troll.

Harry nodded. "I threw that sink at its head," Harry said, pointing to the massive amount of porcelain scattered along the floor, "then I took its head off with a single well-timed grenade."

"And what were you doing here?" McGonagall asked, finally coming to her senses.

"Looking for Hermione, Ma'am," Harry said, jerking his thumb in the girl's direction. "She had been driven off by a former member of the Gryffindor Unit, one Ron Weasley. As she is in my Unit, I came to her rescue."

"What? But?" McGonagall stuttered.

"Driving a member of the Unit to her ruin constitutes as a breach, Ma'am. I refuse to call Ron a member of my Unit. Should you chose not to remove him, I will ignore him. He no longer exists for me."

"Or for me," Neville said, standing straight, jerking his shoulders back.

"But why?" Hermione asked. "I've been awful to you..." she sobbed. "And yet you risk you life for me."

"You are a member of my Unit," Harry replied. "It does not matter who you are. When needed, members of the same Unit stick together."

"You've each earned five points, Mr Potter, Mr Longbottom. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. Run along now, the feast is continuing in the Common Room," McGonagall said, her heart not in it, as she stared at the corpse of the troll.

After the three children ran out, she heard Snape mutter.

"Took its head off. Brushed it off as if it were nothing. He tore off its head and treated it like an every day occurrence." As McGonagall approached, Snape looked up at her. "Now I see why Albus wants me to stay on that brat's good side."

McGonagall nodded. "Is this what Albus meant when he said he didn't want to see a Muggle on the warpath?"

"Probably," Snape muttered, looking at the headless troll again. "It usually takes a few powerful wizards to take on one of these. And yet, a first-year muggle-raised brat takes its head off and treats it like it's a normal day. I still can't believe it."

"It seems Mr Potter is very powerful," McGonagall replied. "What do you think he used?"

Snape waved his wand, casting a magical-identifier spell.. "Wingardium Leviosa."

"He took out a Mountain Troll using a floating charm? How did he achieve _that_?"

"I don't know, Minerva. I don't know. But one thing is sure – I will make haste in telling my Slytherins not to earn Mr Potter's ire – or his wrath. I do not wish to see a headless student."

"Nor do I, Severus," McGonagall said. "Nor do I. I'd better talk to the Headmaster about Mr Weasley's actions."

00000 Conversation with Hermione 00000

After finding a quiet corner in the Common Room, Hermione started to profusely thank Harry – before her curiosity kicked in and she asked about how he did what he did.

"How did you do what you did?" Hermione asked. "I thought you were kidding when you asked about the Levitation Charm being used to drop things on targets!"

"I am training my magic as I am training my body, and I am teaching Neville to do the same," Harry said. "I started with small objects, stones, branches, and so forth. After that, I moved on to larger stones, larger branches, until I am able to levitate entire fallen trees."

"I'm not quite that strong yet, but I'm getting there," Neville said, with a faint smile.

"None of my books ever said that!" Hermione exclaimed.

"It still works," Harry replied.

"But the books..." Hermione said, defending her favourite pass-time.

"Not everything can be found in books," Harry answered, calmly.

"But books are never wrong," Hermione said, now really starting to get into the subject.

"Who wrote the books?" Harry suddenly asked. "Where did the knowledge in those books come from? Do they grow on trees, or are they written by people who try and experiment? And what happens when someone else makes a discovery that invalidates things written earlier?"

"But... but..." Hermione muttered, not having a ready response.

"Think for yourself, Hermione. Reading a book is good. Thinking for yourself is better. Books aren't always right, and you can't always rely on books to provide an answer. There are situations where you must think yourself out of a problem."

"Besides, Harry and I have been studying Potions texts in the library since halfway through September, and I swear, half the books contradict each other," Neville added in.

Hermione spluttered. "But... books... they're all I have!"

Harry cocked his head. "The very fact that Neville and I came to your rescue earlier disproves that. You have an entire Unit here to help you, should you only ask. Do not throw the fact that you have the memory capable of reproducing books at people. Certainly do not confuse said memory retention for intelligence. It is unbecoming, and makes you a hard person to get along with." Hermione shrunk in on herself. "Have confidence in yourself, yet think about what you do, think about what is taught to you, and, if you can, think about what is going on underneath. Think about situations where you can use your knowledge. Apply it to real-world situations. Theory is good, but does not help you when you are in danger of your life."

Hermione shyly looked up at him. "Is that why you are always asking questions about combat situations?"

"Is it all that I know," Harry said. "I know nothing else. It is my weakness, for it is my only strength."

And, for the fist time, Hermione had an independent thought.

"If I help you with that... will you help me like you are helping Neville?" She swallowed. "Please?"

Harry looked at her. "It is long, and hard. I am warning you like I warned Neville – I will make you the best you can be. I will show you reserves you did not know you had, then make you deplete them. I will not allow you to quit, I will hex you first. It is highly likely that you will hate me within short order – until you fight for your life, and find that what I taught you has just saved your life."

Neville shook his head. "Harry is the toughest teacher here. But I can't deny how much he has helped me. I don't stutter anymore. I can look Malfoy in the eye, and give back as good as I get. I can stand up for myself. I can run twice around the lake and not feel tired. I can levitate a small tree, and not feel magically depleted. True, he uses methods I don't think the Ministry would approve, but there is no denying the results."

Hermione looked vaguely disapproving, and that was when she had her second independent thought, and asked. "What do you mean, not Ministry approved?"

"I tell him he's a weak little sissy who should run crying to his grandmother if he does not give it his all. I call him a maggot, or a cockroach. When he _really_ disappoints me, I start getting nasty," Harry explained.

Hermione swallowed. "Like a drill-sergeant?"

"Exactly."

Hermione was silent. "It might be just what I needed," she whispered. "How do I sign up?" She added a small smile. "Sir?"

"Only officers are called _sir_," Harry replied calmly, not specifically as any sort of rebuke, only a passing of information. "There is no formal process. Tomorrow at o-five-thirty, I will expect you to join me and Neville at the lake. We will start you out on physical exercises. We must first build up your body before we can build up your mind."

00000 Room of Requirement 00000

Harry roamed the hallways of Hogwarts alone. His usual companions, Hermione and Neville, had both left to celebrate the holidays at home, and so it left him with the spare time to engage in one of his favourite pastimes – skulking around.

He was on the fourth floor presently, taking a never-before-used turn down a narrow corridor. His wand out, Harry crept along, making no sound, regulating his breathing. He didn't know where he was going to end up, or who would be there. Plus, it was good exercise not to let his stealth skills go to waste. Who knew when the next time he needed to infiltrate something was.

He noticed a door standing ajar, and Harry slowly pushed himself inside, not touching either door or frame, refraining from making boise or moving the door.

The room was an abandoned classroom, the desks and chairs piled high against one wall. Harry's gaze was drawn to the only other thing present in the large room – a huge, ornately decorated mirror leaning against one wall.

It stood from ground to ceiling, supported by two clawed feet. Along the golden border was inscribed something. Harry squinted to read it through the dust that had accumulated on the golden frame. _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

"Hm," Harry muttered to himself. "Interesting."

And then, he gazed into the mirror itself, expecting his own reflection.

He blinked, twice, because he was suddenly not alone in the room. He looked over his shoulder. Nothing, the room was empty. He looked back into the mirror, and once again, his reflection was not alone.

Surrounding him was his brother, Sousuke, armed to the teeth. Arrayed around them were the most incredible soldiers Harry had ever encountered, the very top of the Spetznaz, Mujahedin, and other Special Forces he had served with.

What was even more incredible was that over half of these men were dead.

He cocked his head, studying the reflection. They were armed to the teeth, all of them. Armed with the very latest weaponry, the most incredible equipment... and was that an Arm Slave in the background? Harry turned around. The room was empty.

He looked back to the mirror. Yes, that was an Arm Slave. How did the reflection manage to get the image of an Arm Slave into a room that was more than likely a third of the height of the giant robot?

Harry took a step back. This was some sort of trick. A hallucination.

But a very alluring one.

Harry closed his eyes, and wrenched himself away, taking two, three large steps to ward the door – then paused, and looked over his shoulder at the mirror. He could see the most formidable fighting force, the Arm Slave in the background, and took a step back toward it.

_Hallucination!_ His mind screamed. _They are dead! You saw them dying! One of them in _your _arms!_

His eyes disagreed, for there they were, reflected back, as real as life. He opened his mouth, licking his lips. "Identify yourselves," he muttered to the mirror. The people in the mirror just nodded gruffly, as was their wont. None of them said anything.

"Identify yourselves," Harry demanded, louder. "Name, rank, and serial numbers!"

Again, nobody answered.

_We have been compromised,_ his mind told itself. _Walk away! Turn around, and walk away!_

His feet twitched, almost obeying.

_This is a hallucination! Defend yourself!_

His hand closed around the Glock. With supreme effort, he lifted it out of its holster. The people in the mirror were nodding gruffly, as if in agreement.

It was all the positive reinforcement Harry needed, and his put a bullet through the mirror.

The image shattered as the magic screamed its dying breath into the stale air of the room, and at once, Harry felt himself in control of his own mind. Panting deeply, he resisted the urge to drop to his knees. Instead, he forced himself to spin around, pistol out and ready to target any enemies nearby.

Nobody was in the room, and Harry slipped back outside. Making his way back to the main hallways, he noted that twilight had set in. Shocked, he looked at his watch.

Just what had happened to him? He had lost no less than three hours! It seemed he had just finished lunch, and now it was dinner time!

He looked back to the passage he had taken to the abandoned classroom. Whatever that thing was, it was dead now. He walked downstairs, time to get some dinner. Exploration could wait until tomorrow.

After dinner, Harry was walking back to the Gryffindor Common Room. A relaxing dinner had been just what the doctor had ordered, and his jumpy nerves had calmed down after the strange experience with that... trap.

"May we speak, Harry?" headmaster Dumbledore asked, suddenly stepping out of a side-passage.

"Yes, Sir!" Harry replied, snapping at attention and saluting formally.

"No need for formality, Harry," Dumbledore said, a gentle smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. "I would just ask you if you know anything about the Mirror or Erised."

Harry had an inkling what the man was talking about. "Mirror or Erised, Sir?"

Dumbledore nodded. "It was standing in an abandoned classroom. However, it seems to have been the subject of vandalism."

Harry nodded, more to himself then in response to Dumbledore. "I did run into a most unusual trap this afternoon," Harry finally replied. "It used some kind of hallucinogen."

"Hallucinogen?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sir! It showed me things that were impossible, including people who died in my arms. It took me a long time to force myself away. If my watch is correct, I lost three hours, Sir! In the end, I had to resort to violence to end the release of hallucinogens in order to free myself."

"I... see," Dumbledore said. "Thank you for your information, Harry. I will let you return to the Common Room now."

"Sir, thank you, Sir!" Harry replied, saluted formally, and walked to the Common Room, ready for a good night's sleep. All four hours of it.

The next day, Harry was skulking the seventh floor. As he legged through a long, straight hallway, he paused to stare at the most unusual tapestry. The plaque noted that the image was of Barnabas the Barmy, teaching ballet to trolls. Harry shook his head, turned, and started walking again. The hallway was long and straight. Nothing of interest there. Suddenly, he stopped, frowned, and turned on his heels to walk back. Two paces later, he stopped agin, his frown deepening. Something was amiss with this corridor. It was almost as if it was longer than it appeared...

He turned, and started walking agin, paying attention to the shift in his vision, wishing deep down that he were back in Afghanistan. True, his life may be more at risk there, but at least there was no strange and creepy magic that got on his nerves at times.

As he walked, a door wavered into being on the wall opposite the tapestry. So focused had Harry been, that this appearance was met with the most violent of startled reactions.

Harry dropped to the floor, rolled away, his gun in his hand pointing at the door in question.

For almost five minutes, Harry was crouched low, gun pointed at the door, as if staring it down. Finally, he decided that it wasn't a trick of some sort, and slowly, he got up. Gun in his right hand, Harry pushed his back against the wall next to the door, reaching for the handle with his left.

He opened the door, pushed it all the way open with his left, and rolled itself, bringing the gun up.

He was in the Afghan Mujahedin training camp. As he stared with open mouth, he found not a single living person there – but all the equipment was there.

A smile formed on Harry's face then. He took back his dark thought about magic. Magic was the best.

As he looked at the door leading back to the castle, he wondered for a few moments whether this room would still be here if he left, or whether it would vanish once again. Without any more information, it was impossible for him to make a decision.

"What the hell _is_ this place?" he finally asked out loud, when the answers didn't seem to 'magically' come to him.

"You is in come-and-go room," a voice squeaked from next to him, making Harry jump up, land in a crouch, his gun extended to the source of the voice.

It looked like a very ugly sort of goblin, with huge round eyes, pointy ears that seemed to be parabolic (as they kept moving around), and no more than a meter tall. "Who and what are _you?_" Harry demanded of the creature first.

"I is Tilly, Master. Tilly is House-Elf. Tilly take care of master students, cleaning, cooking," the little thing squeaked.

Harry blinked. "So _that_ is where the food comes from," he muttered, standing up, and holstering his gun. The creature – a house-elf, he corrected himself – nodded. "Now, tell me about this come-and-go room."

"Is sometimes called Room of Requirement, Sir. Pace three times in front of tapestry, thinking about what Sir is wishing room to be, and room is being."

Harry looked at the Afghan training centre. It _had_ been his last thought. "Interesting."

"Is being very interesting, Sir. House-elves is being using this room to store items lost by students."

Harry nodded. "Thanks for the information," he told the creature. Another one of his life's lessons – it never hurt being polite. Who knows, one might be in need of their services again.

"You is being welcome, Sir. You is needing something, you is calling Tilly?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure."

Tilly the house-elf nodded, and vanished with a _pop_. Harry blinked. _That_ was an interesting skill to have. He wondered if he could learn it. Instantaneous travel – or give the appearance of it – could be very handy to have as a skill. Especially if it didn't come with too many limitations.

He walked out the door, and watched it vanish once again. Setting off to the Owlery, he found Hedwig, and started scratching on a few pieces of parchment he had in his backpack (never leave home without it – you never knew when you needed parchment, quill, ink, handgun, hand-grenade, or survival gear).

Scratching out two notes, he tied them to Hedwig's legs. "This one goes to Headmaster Dumbledore. It'll let him know that I will be in the Hogwarts Compound, but unavailable for the next week. It'll ask him not to send out a search-party. You need not wait for a response. The second one goes to my brother, Sousuke. Last I knew, he was in the deserts of arabia. He may not be there now. Can you find him?"

Hedwig blinked a few times at him, then cocked her head, and seemed to scowl, as if asking if he doubted her abilities. "Very well. You will need to wait for a response from him. I have sent him enough owls requesting he does not eat you."

Hedwig blinked a few times, cocked her head in the other direction, and studied him for a few moments – obviously asking herself if Harry was making a joke or not. As Harry stared at her with a complete poker face, Hedwig relented, and started flying.

Returning to the Common Room, Harry packed his backpack for a week-long survival mission.

An hour later, he was back in the Room of Requirement, this time making sure to seal the door behind him. He didn't see them, but shooters opened fire on him, and he ducked behind a nearby dune.

Finally, some decent action. Firearms and explosives. What more could he need?

The room shimmered, and the scenery around him changed. "Crazy Achmed's Weapon Emporiom," Harry muttered, reading from a plaque hung on a door to a warehouse.

He once knew a guy named 'Crazy Achmed' – the guy really was crazy, but nobody knew weapons better than him. Until he blew himself up after brewing a bad batch of nitroglycerine.

Accidents happened, and that was when 'Youssef the Idiot' had taken over the weapons trade for the Mujahedin. He was as dumb as a post, but knew his weapons, and _he_ wasn't crazy enough to brew nitroglycerine.

Harry opened the door, and stepped into a huge, white, brightly-lit, warehouse. It was completely filled with pitch-black racks, all of them filled to capacity with weapons.

Green eyes shining like a Harry Potter in a Weapons Emporium, Harry started lifting weapons and ammunitions: some Glocks as sidearms, some Uzis for suppression fire, an AK-47 for medium-range gunfights, and an M-16 just because it was there and he never actually used one. He regretfully passed on the fifty-caliber Sniper Rifle, fearing its weight and bulk, and went for Claymores, hand-grenades, and an RPG launcher instead.

Hung with weapons and ammo pouches, Harry stepped out of the 'Emporium', and re-entered the gunfight, this time armed to the teeth.

And even though the weight was substantial, he had actually been weighed down heavier at some periods in the past. Unfortunately, months of easy living within the castle, even with daily exercise, had made him somewhat soft.

Oh, well. That was what this training exercise was for.

Grinning like a madman, Harry grabbed the AK-47, racked the slide, and started looking for his targets. This was going to be _fun_!

00000 one week later 00000

Exactly one week later, Harry struggled into the Great Hall. A lot of the students had started to return already, so it was probably half the student population saw him make his way to the table. His uniform was torn, cut, and burned in places. A large cut was present on his left cheek, caked with blood. His right leg was being dragged, obviously no longer capable of supporting his weight as he limped. His left arm was being held close against his body, as if he were afraid of using it.

As he dragged himself forward, a trail of blood was left behind from his lame right leg. Setting himself at the Gryffindor table, he started to eat.

Dumbledore was the first one at his side, the old man moving quite springy for someone his age. "You should be in the infirmary, Harry."

"Food," Harry muttered with a full mouth as he swallowed, and grabbed himself a second heaving plate, continuing to shove food in his mouth. For just a few moments, Dumbledore looked at his wayward student, who was now eating way faster than Ronald Weasley could even match.

"How long has it been since you've eaten, Harry?" Dumbledore finally asked, seeing the boy go for plate number three and showing no signs of stopping. Harry held up three fingers with his left hand, still not budging his left arm as he did so.

"Three hours?" Harry shot the Headmaster a look. "Three _days_?"

Harry swallowed. "Not much to catch. Had to keep running," he said, succinctly, resuming his meal.

"Just what have you been doing, Harry?" the Headmaster asked, on a friendly tone.

"Hell week," Harry replied calmly, in between bites. "Was worth it. Was getting lazy. Back up to speed now."

Dumbledore blinked at Harry, who continued to eat. When the boy was finally sated – after no less than six plates and half a peach cobbler, Harry hissed as he dragged himself to his feet. "Hospital Wing now," he muttered, dragging himself out of the Great Hall.

"Will you require assistance?" Dumbledore asked.

"I managed to drag myself here, I can drag myself to the Hospital Wing, Sir," Harry replied. "Thanks, but no thanks, Sir."

Dumbledore just nodded, and kept staring, from his position next to the Gryffindor Table, until the doors had closed behind Harry.

The moment he had vanished, the Great Hall erupted in shouts, everyone asking variations on what Harry Potter had been up to _now_, and just _how_ he had been able to do such a thing to himself within the walls of Hogwarts.

A few hours later, Harry shuffled into his dorm room. Likely, he was a first year, and only had to ascend one flight of stairs. He didn't even think about seventh year, and having to climb seven stories worth of dorm rooms.

The nurse had bustled about, as nurses and medical personal are wont to do, muttering about the torn ligaments in his left elbow, the fact that he had a bleeding big hole in his right leg, the cut on his cheek, the bruises and various other minor injuries he had sustained.

Thankfully, magic was very adept at healing such... minor... inconveniences. Out there, he would have been lucky to get out of the hospital in one week. Here he was fit enough to escape after only a few hours.

Part of the fun of being in hospital – finding ways of escape. It seemed that the magical en muggle hospital operated under the same rules... you were only fit enough to be discharged if you managed to escape.

For just a few moments, he thought someone had booby-trapped his bed. A multitude of brightly-covered packages were on top of his covers, but Harry was too tired to care. Drawing a breath to brace himself, he lowered himself to the floor, and rolled underneath his bed, asleep within seconds.

00000 After the holidays 00000

"Hi Harry, Neville," Hermione said, sitting down next to Harry and Neville, the latter of which continuing to tell about his holidays after both greeted her. After Neville finished, both boys turned to Hermione, who seemed to be bouncing up and down in her chair.

"I've been thinking a lot," Hermione said in response to the question about what she had done during the holidays. "And I believe you're right, Harry. Books are good, for reference materials, but I shouldn't believe everything they say." She reached into her bag, and lifted out a number of small ledgers. "I started reading about Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes, trying to figure out how magic worked, and go from there," she explained. "And I think I went from there."

She put the ledgers on the table, and leaned closer to Harry and Neville, both leaning in conspiratorially. She pushed the ledgers closer to the boys. "I think I developed a new way of looking at magic, based not only on magic, but on thought, and nature."

Neville just gaped, his mouth open, unable to believe that a little first-year muggleborn witch would be able to think up new magic. "Tell me, Harry, Neville, have you ever heard of the Patronus Charm?"

Neville shook his head, while Harry replied, "Negative."

"Well, it's a charm that uses magic and the power of thought to create its results. You need a very bright and happy memory, and it'll create something called a 'Patronus' which will scare off ghastly creatures called 'Dementors'. Anyway, that's where I got my inspiration from. And... it just flowed from there, I guess. It was almost as if I knew all of this all along, but only now realized it." She opened the first ledger, which bore the name 'Fire'. "These are spells I developed based on the element of Fire. For instance, this first one is the classic 'shoot a fireball' kind of spell. It requires a source of fire nearby. " She glanced at one of the torches lighting the Great Hall. "The mental component is a fireball. Just think of the kind of fireball you want, the colour you want it to have, how big, and so forth. And these are the incantations and wand-movements." She swallowed. "Although I'm not sure you need the wand movements. Or even the wand."

Harry looked at the ledger held open in front of him. "How sure are you of this?" he asked.

"Pretty sure – but I wasn't able to test this out over the holidays. We're not allowed to use magic outside the school," Hermione muttered.

"So it's untested?" Neville asked, perking up at the thought of his worldview coming right-side-up.

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, and he pointed his wand at the wall behind them. Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, he thought of a small flame, like a cigarette lighter. He muttered the incantation, doing the wand-movements as written down in the book.

The sensation of feeling fire drain from the nearest torch, gather at his wand tip, and explode out in a miniature fireball was not something he was accustomed to, and it caused him to take a tighter grip on his wand, making sure he did not drop it.

Survival rule – never let your weapon fall unless you no longer need it.

Neville was white as a ghost, while Hermione was bouncing up and down in her seat, the biggest smile ever on her face.

"I, too, have some interesting tales to share," Harry said, standing up. "Including an excellent test site."

Neville just got to his legs. "A first-year," he muttered, over and over. "A first-year developed a whole new branch of magic."

"We will work this out," Harry said. "It is a strategic advantage to have. We should not publish this immediately. Let's hold it secret until we have no other choice."

Hermione was bouncing on her feet by the time Harry showed them to the seventh floor, this time 'requiring' the Room of Requirement to turn into a test facility.

"So, which one shall we test first?" Harry asked, looking at the ledgers, while Hermione and Neville just gaped at the marvel that was the Room of Requirement.

"What?" Hermione asked, blinking as she turned her focus back to Harry. "Testing. Right. Well, each element seems to have its own ability. Fire is good for attacks. Wind seems excellent at defence, although it has a wicked wind-cutter – even if its under-powered. Water is good at healing-type spells, although it also very good to combat fire-based spells. Earth can take on just about anything, but it's slow and easy to dodge. Lightning in furious and fast, but can backfire quite easily. Metal can divert lightning, but you need to be able to find exposed metal first, which could be tricky. Wood is immune to lightning, and is organic, so it's good for growing things and such. And then there's the final two, Light, and Shadow. I've only found two applications for them yet – compressed light for Light, which would be kinda like a laser, I guess, and a Shadow-Attack, which would be like being hit by your worst nightmares."

Neville continued to gape. He didn't know what a laser was, but he had understood the rest of it.

Forget turning his world-view upside-down. Hermione had taken his worldview, burned it, and sketched him a new one. From memory. And done so in a way that made him debate – 'why has nobody else ever come up with this?'.

"Interesting," Harry said. "And all of these require their own element to be present?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes; you can't cast a Light-spell in a completely dark room. Well, you could, I guess, but it'd use what very little light there was, blind you completely, and not be very effective, I guess."

Harry nodded. "Interesting," he repeated. "Very well, let's test." The Room of Requirement read his 'requirements', and a number of targets appeared. "Let's start with target practice. After that, I'll show you what I've been doing during my Hell Week."

Neville squeaked. "H-Hell Week?"

00000 a bit of a time-skip 00000

Over the next few weeks, the students gradually saw Hermione and Neville look more and more haggard, bags developing under their eyes, slumping over with their eyes closed whenever they had the chance to.

After a week or two, it was noticeable that both first-years were developing control and power in their spells that was hard to miss, the tired looks started to vanish, and both starting to become more and more aware of their surroundings.

In short, in a few weeks, Harry was turning Neville and Hermione into soldiers. Vanishing for hours on end, they returned mere minutes before curfew, their homework done with meticulous perfection, ready for the next days of classes, prepared to the extreme.

Neville even managed to start ignoring Snape's nature and personality, keeping his cool even under the hawk-like gaze resting continuously upon the boy's cauldron.

It spooked Snape more than he let on, and time and again, he glanced at Harry, who was still ever-grateful to the Potions Master for any and all shortcomings pointed out.

Finally, one day, they started going to the library again, rather than vanish to wherever it was they vanished to.

Nobody approached them without being seen, either of the three always scanning their surroundings while the others were busy, before switching. It was unnerving for the other students to watch how the three of them looked out for each other, covering each other's backs, always aware of everything that went on around them.

What was worse, they had taken to sitting at the back, or in dark corners, or against a wall. Always in a position where it was easy to look at everything, without running the risk of being approached without them being unaware of it.

Finally, after a month or two, the students were starting to get used to seeing them in twilight, and under the influence of a few brave Gryffindors, and a few had-to-know Ravenclaws, a small group of about ten students approached them one day.

Halfway through the library, Harry had spotted them, and shifted slightly in his seat. As he shifted, Neville and Hermione looked up, seeing what Harry saw, and shifted as well.

As they only had another quarter of the library to go, Harry's hand vanished under the table, no doubt grabbing for a wand. Hermione and Neville followed suit.

Finally, the group stopped before the table, and for the first time, a group of Hogwarts students became aware of the utter dead look in the trio's eyes.

No – not dead, rather, control. Total control over their emotions, as if they had stared death in the face and nothing that could be done to them now could scare them.

"Ehm," Dean muttered, trying desperately to call upon the bravery of Gryffindor house. "Harry?"

"Affirmative," Harry replied levelly. "May I assist you with something?"

"We... eh..." Seamus picked up, but then fell flat, not really knowing how to say this.

"We'd like to join your study-group," Padma Patil from Ravenclaw rushed out. When Harry's eyes focused on her, she repressed the urge to squeak – but she still took a step closer to her twin, the Gryffindor Parvati Patil.

"I do not have a study-group," Harry replied levelly.

"What about Hermione and Neville?" Parvati asked, feeling a little braver now that it looked as if they weren't about to be hexed on sight.

"They are my squad," Harry replied. "I trained them. They trained me."

"That's what a study-group does, Harry," Padma muttered, still not feeling as brave as her sister, but she still got her point across.

"Gryffindor is my Unit," Harry finally replied. "If they wish my training, I will consider giving it to them. However, you are Ravenclaw Unit, and thee are Hufflepuff members among you as well," he said, gaze travelling over Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott. "I do not believe I should do this."

Padma cocked her head, starting to see what Harry was saying. "We may be different Units," she replied, startling the heck out of the other students when she used Harry's terminology. Really, it made sense, in a certain way. "However, we are still in the same school."

Harry looked at her. "Yes, we are," he finally replied. "What does this mean?"

"We may be different Units, but we are a single battalion."

"Your Units do not supply you with extra training?"

"Not like yours," Padma replied, having taken the unofficial spokesperson position. It seemed she was doing a good job, and it also seemed that there wouldn't be any hexings.

Harry rubbed his chin for a few seconds. "I see." He looked at Hermione. She shrugged, before nodding. He dipped his head once, and looked at Neville, who just shrugged.

"My training is difficult," Harry said. "I will issue my standard warning, the same one I issued to Hermione and Neville. I will make you the best you can be. I will show you reserves you did not know you had, then make you deplete them. I will not allow you to quit, I will hex you first. It is highly likely that you will hate me within short order – until you fight for your life, and find that what I taught you has just saved your life."

The group swallowed. "What do you mean?" Padma finally asked.

"I will issue you with an exercise, and applicable timeframes. I will expect you to complete the exercise, within the allotted timeframe. Failure will result in punishment drills to bring your timing up to level. Failure to complete is not allowed. I will hex you to motivate you if necessary."

Padma stared at him, before looking at Hermione and Neville. Both nodded in synch. "When basic training is finished, we shall begin Hell Week," Harry said. "That is when your basic training will result in increasing abilities."

Again, the group stared at Hermione and Neville, who nodded. "It is Hell," Hermione said.

"But it will make you strong," Neville finished.

"I'm in," Padma finally said. With her acceptance come the acceptance of the others.

"Very well," Harry said, standing up, Hermione and Neville flanking him. "Tomorrow, you will join us at oh-five-thirty hours, at the tapestry on Barnabas the Barmy teaching ballet to Trolls on the seventh floor. You have until then to back out. If you appear tomorrow, you have lost that right, and I will hex you to within an inch of your lives before I allow you to quit."

The group nodded, some with more enthusiasm than others.

00000 later that year, but before end of year 00000

Harry's hand reached out, stopping Padma from filling her plate for the third time.

Sometime after their initial training sessions 'basic training', Harry had insisted, the entire 'study group' had started eating together. At first a suggestion from Harry (team bonding), everyone had taken to it, as it was quite nice to reminisce about the arduous training over a nice, hot meal.

"Don't," he cautioned Padma.

The Indian girl looked at him with a question in her eye. "I am used to starving myself then gorging myself," Harry replied to her unstated question. "Eating too much after not eating for a few days will cause adverse reactions in your body, as it is no longer used to digesting food."

"That's only when you've been starved for a while," Hermione said. "Not when you've... ahem... fasted... for a few days."

Harry released Padma's wrist, and shrugged, turning back to his own food. Padma pushed her plate away, looking somewhat enviously as he demolished his third serving. Hermione, not heeding Harry's advice, started on plate three. Harry shrugged at the challenging look on her face, and focused on his food.

Suddenly, the conversation around them tapered off, and Harry looked up, feeling someone standing near him.

Dammit, he'd been focussing on his meal too much. He was getting soft in this soft environment. He added a few extra drills to his own schedule for tonight. He needed to keep himself in top shape, even if he had to punish himself to do so.

Looking up at his visitor, he refrained from saying anything, and merely focused his gaze on the redhead. It was strange how a usually composed person like Harry could look even more menacing, simply by staring at someone without a visible shift in his stance or posture.

His eyes, however, looked cold and dead – a repressed gleam of anticipation the only thing visible, and even then, only to those who _knew_ him.

"Eh... Harry..." Ron muttered. Harry remained silent, merely gazing at his 'visitor'.

"I... eh... I'd really like to join you guys," Ron muttered, feeling sweat pour down his brow at the look from Harry. "You're all so much better, you're top of the class, and I really need the help, so I'd really like to join, and I'd never make another bad remark," Ron rambled, while Harry just continued to stare at him, not saying anything.

Ron's ramble died off when it became apparent that Harry wasn't going to do or say anything. The redhead swallowed, wiping at his wet forehead. There was little he could do about the sweat that was soaking into his clothes from the rest of his body. More and more, Ron got the impression that he was playing a very deadly game of chicken with a King Cobra, and the one who blinked first was the one who was going to perish.

He swallowed compulsively. "I... eh... Please?"

Harry just kept staring.

"And... I'm sorry?"

Harry said nothing, did nothing. He just... kept... staring.

"I... eh... I'll sit over there, and forget all about this," Ron finally said, pointing to the far end of the Gryffindor table, and started to walk off, backwards, as if afraid to turn his back to Harry.

When the boy finally turned, and raced off, Harry nodded, and turned back to his food.

"That was mean," Hermione said, neutrally.

"But entertaining," Harry replied, not disputing her point in the slightest. He pushed his plate away. It was cold now, and his appetite had vanished. Next to him, Hermione let out a contented sigh after cleaning her fourth plate.

Suddenly, she grimaced, and let out a small moan. A few seconds later, she hissed, and hugged her stomach. Harry lifted an eyebrow. "It seems you're having adverse reactions to eating too much," Harry replied levelly.

"Yes, yes, you told me so," Hermione snapped, standing up. "I'm going to the infirmary."

"Meet us at the usual spot, tonight at seven. We're having a light training to work up to Hell Week."

Hermione grimaced, turned, and left the Great Hall. "If we're working up to Hell Week, what did we just do?" Dean asked. Only Hermione had defied Harry's words.

"Basic training in endurance," Neville replied. "We did the same thing back in January."

Harry glanced at Neville, then nodded. It seemed that a plan was forming in Harry's mind, and nobody knew whether to be scared, or happy. Scared, because it might be _them_ who was the target, or happy because it might be someone else, and they'd get to sit back and watch the show.

That evening, at seven, Hermione was still looking a bit under the weather, but she was present.

"Tonight we will have a light training. This light training will go on for a week, then we will be going through Hell Week. Unfortunately, as this is a school year, and there are no more upcoming week-long holidays I can use, we will need to modify the schedule of Hell Week. I will let you know when the time comes." He looked at Hermione and Neville. "Hermione, Neville, you have gone through this training before. You will become my squad leaders, and train the others in what you have learned."

"But... what about you?" Hermione blurted out.

"I have my own training. Training all of you has taken a large hit on my own training schedule, and I can not allow myself to fall behind," Harry replied. "You wanted them in, you will train them. I will be available for when things do not work out as planned, or you need further assistance."

Hermione gulped, while Neville just nodded. He had been expecting something like this. "Alright," he said, taking over from Harry, deciding that, if he was going to be shoved in a place of authority, at least he'd do the best job he could. "Everyone, split into two groups."

Harry nodded with satisfaction as Neville calmly took the leadership role, and methodically split the group into two. Now that she had recovered, Hermione joined in, helping the group split, offering advice where she could.

Harry turned, and walked some place away, ready to resume his training – and the extra punishment drills. He had chosen well. Neville and Hermione would make fine commanders one day.

00000 End of year 00000

"It's a Philosopher's Stone!" Hermione exclaimed, during a small study session of Harry's 'Study Group' – in the Room of Requirement. It hadn't taken long before Hermione had figured out that 'requiring' the Hogwarts Library – only without pesky alarms on the Restricted Section – was just what she needed.

"Congratulations, Hermione," Harry said, looking at the young witch. "Personally, I'd call it a 'book', though," he finished, pointing at the large tome currently in front of his friend.

Hermione looked up, and shot him a rather peeved look, before shaking her head. "The third floor? The one that is off limits? The one that is guarding something in relation to Nicholas Flamel?"

Harry nodded, recalling those details. "Hermione, some of us prefer answers, rather than more questions," he replied.

"Sorry," she muttered. "Anyway, I finally found Nicholas Flamel! He's a famous alchemist, the only one who reportedly made a Philosopher's Stone! _That_ is what is being guarded by that three-headed dog!"

Harry shrugged. "Very well. What is a Philosopher's Stone, and why does it need to be guarded?"

The resulting explanation left Harry's head ringing. He could honestly say he understood nothing of the resulting arithmantic equations Hermione spouted. "And in plain Russian?" he answered, making her blush. He always asked her to repeat 'in plain Russian' if she said something not in the ordinary vocabulary.

It irked her to no end that Harry knew Russian. And Afghan. And Japanese. And some Arabic.

"It makes gold, and grants immortality," she said succinctly.

"Thank you," Harry told her gratefully, and stood up from his chair. "Point a, we know someone is after the mysterious object hidden on the third floor. Point b, we now have a good indication it is a Philosopher's Stone. Point c, it is being guarded by at least a three-headed dog called a Cerberus. Point d, further defences are unknown to us."

The entire 'Study group' nodded. "Speed is of the essence. We must retrieve the Stone before someone other may get to it."

"Question," Padma said, raising her hand. "Wouldn't it be better to trust the defences laid down by the teachers?"

"They are teachers, not professional warders," Hermione said. "Even Gringott's was penetrated, remember? If they can get into Gringott's, they can get into whatever it is the teachers put down."

"Exactly," Harry said, motioning to Hermione to concede her point. "We can not keep this item safe. However, there is one thing we have that nobody else has. We do not need this item. If someone comes for it, we destroy it. Immediately, and irreparably."

"Harry!" Hermione screeched. "That's one of the most valuable objects in the Wizarding World!"

Harry cocked his head at her. "Then we are no better than the thieves," he said, sitting down again. "We shall let the thieves steal it. They want to use it, just like you are planning on doing."

Hermione blushed bright red as she sat down. "There is a fine line between thieving, and protecting," Harry said. "A soldier must know when to make the distinction." He shrugged. "He must also know when _not_ to make the distinction." After all, when celebrating a victory, some looting never hurt anybody – as long as the looting came from the losing side, of course.

Harry surveyed the small group. "I ask for volunteers. Please bear in mind that this may result in expulsion. This is a Black Operation. We can not call upon legal defence. We act outside the law, in order to protect it. Only those who wish to make the sacrifice should come."

Neville was the first who stood, Hermione not far behind. The others looked at each other, and slowly, one by one, they stood. "Only volunteer if you want it," Harry said. "Do not be pressured into this."

Nobody sat down.

Harry nodded. "Split up into squads, under your squad leader. Hermione, you and your team amass spells. Neville, you and your group are with me, we'll procure armaments."

"We'll get to use firearms? Outside of training?" Seamus asked; excitedly.

"The situation warrants it," Harry said, nodding his head to a suddenly appearing 'Crazy Achmed's Weapons Emporium', shooting off from a Hogwarts Library without protection spells. As Neville and his group started pulling weapons off the racks – for themselves and for Hermione and her group of spellcasters – Harry started casting Duplication spells.

It had become apparent early on that nothing the Room created could be taken outside of it – however, the same could not be said of duplicated items. So, the Room created temporary items, and Harry duplicated them – making them permanent.

Suited up into black gear (hence the name 'Black Ops', Harry joked), and laden with weapons, the dozen First Years made their way down to the Third Floor.

Such was Harry's ability with mission planning that they saw not a single student, teacher, caretaker, or feline. "Hermione, you and your team will cast binding spells. As many as you can and as fast as you can. Neville, suppression fire."

Neville nodded to his team, who nodded back, while Hermione drew her wand, followed immediately by the others of her team. Harry drew a couple of grenades from his belt, ready to pull the pins and reduce the three-headed Hellhound the same way he had reduced the Troll.

As Harry pushed the door open, he heard Hermione and her group stream in, multiple shouted of _incarcerous_ throwing conjured ropes at the Hellhound, binding its gigantic paws together and closing its muzzles. As the casters kept repeating their spells, more and more ropes added to the Hellhound, who struggled but really had no way of knowing how to free itself, right before Neville and his group opened up with AK-47s.

The fact that the AK-s were less than precise at ranges over three hundred meters was of no consequence in the confines of a room – especially when they needed the stopping power.

The hound screamed through its gagged muzzles, before going limp, the sharp odour of spilt blood and cordite filling the air. "Target suppressed," Neville muttered, looking rather pale, as did most of the other shooting team members.

Hermione swallowed visibly, and a lot of the Study group members were looking less than peachy. Harry replaced the grenades on his belt. Opening the trap door, he cast a lumos spell to see what was down there.

"Devil's Snare," Neville said as he looked down, right next to Harry.

"Likes dark and damp, hates fire," Neville addd, looking at Harry, who sat up straight, and grinned slightly. He reached for his belt, removed a different sort of grenade, gave the pin a yank, and dropped it.

"Fire in the hole," he said, pulling back from the hole.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Willy Pete," Harry said with a small smile as smoke reached up through the hole, right before a roaring fire could be heard. "White Phosphorous is a very good incendiary. Let's give it time to burn out. You don't want to come into contact with it, as it's nearly impossible to extinguish."

Hermione drew pale again, and just waited until the smoke cleared. Grateful that nobody had come to investigate the noise made by half a dozen AK-47s, the group jumped down, landing nice and soft in the ash pile of what used to be Devil's Snare.

They followed the corridor, and entered a room filled with flying keys – and one obviously locked door.

Hermione cast a spell at the door, which suddenly started to light up in dozen of bright neon colours. "It's warded," Hermione said. "One of those keys is probably the Ward-Key to open the door."

"How good are wards against chemical reactions?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest," she replied, sounding rather put out about not knowing the answer.

"Alright, cover me," harry said, walking to the door and tentatively reaching out to touch it. The wards were obviously designed to keep the door closed – and nothing else – for they did nothing to stop Harry from reaching out and touching the door.

Reaching into one of his many pockets, and pulled out a third kind of hand grenade, again one not before seen by the other students. Sticking the grenade to the door with a sticking spell didn't work, but using some duck tape DID.

He pulled the pin, and started running to the far corner.

Seeing Harry run from a piece of ordinance trigger a primal reflex in everybody else, and they ran after him.

It was as if someone had poured liquid fire out on to the door, sparks flying and wards screeching as the liquid fire burned its way through the door.

The wards held.

Unfortunately, nobody seemed to have spelled the door itself to be indestructible, if such a thing were even possible, for it now sported a huge hole where a lock had been.

Everyone just stared at Harry, until he gave an explanation.

"Thermite Grenade. Burns hot enough to melt a hole in a tank, so it should be enough to open a door."

"The door, yes," Hermione said, looking at the ward-scheme. "The wards, not so much."

"Damn," Harry muttered. "Hermione? Ideas?"

"You can catch the damn Ward-Key," Hermione said, motioning to the hundreds of keys flying around.

"Or we can cheat," Harry said, smiling slightly.

"Are you can cheat," Hermione replied, enlarging one of her infamous ledgers after pulling it from her pocket. It was the one labelled 'Air'. "use this," she said, flipping to a page and holding the ledger up to Harry. "You are still the one who gets the best reaction out of my new magic."

"A Ward-Hammer," Harry said with a grin, pulling his wand. Closing his eyes, he envision the biggest wrecking-ball he had ever seen, one attached to a construction device used to knock down large buildings. Keeping the mental component firmly before his mind's eye, he looked at the wards, and shouted the spell.

The first impact visibly wavered the wards, even dispelling a few of the colours, but overall, the effect was rather disappointing.

Harry did not like being disappointed.

Spreading his legs, he grabbed his wand with both hands, and _shouted_ the incantation, while keeping the wrecking ball before his mental eye.

It was as if someone sucked the magic out of his core – while at the same time, drawing all the breathable oxygen from the air, the spell strong enough to actually become visible in a distortion of air as it raced toward the wards.

They shattered as if made of glass.

Walking through, they emerged into a room fashioned into a giant chess-set, the white pieces facing away from them, the black pieces facing them on the other side of the room, ready to be played.

"We'll have to play ourselves across," Hermione determined when one of the pieces moved to block her attempts to walk across.

"Never act as the enemy wants you to act," Harry replied. He looked at the people they brought with them. "Besides, there are more of us than there are white pieces, and not all of us know how to play chess. How many grenades do we have?"

"Eight," Neville said, after a count from his group. Harry lifted his own three.

"With my three, that makes eleven. Not enough," he declared. "Alright, everybody back into the hall. Hermione, give me the ledger on 'Earth'. They're standing targets, should be ideal."

Hermione nodded, and handed him the 'Earth' ledger, Harry starting to flip through, trying to find the right spell. Finally, he drew his wand. "Let's hope this works."

He started the incantation, long, slow, and guttural, with lots of long, drawn-out sounds. Around them, they felt the small hallway start to shake as the magic started to take hold of the walls, floor, and ceiling of the room before them.

As soon as it started, it stopped, Harry letting out an explosive breath panting deeply. "That is difficult magic," he told Hermione, before drawing in a few deep breaths to ease his breathing, and righting himself.

"Let's try this again."

This time, he closed his eyes, keeping his focus firmly in mind as he cast his spell.

Slowly, the floor before them started to rise.

And kept rising.

A ward appeared, flickering madly above the giant chess-pies, either there to protect them, or to prevent anybody from flying across. A few seconds later, the ward shattered and the floor continued to rise, pushing the pieces ever upward. Apparently, the ward hadn't been very strong – obviously it was to keep them from flying across on the brooms of the previous room.

Not that they were all good flyers. Harry himself was halfway decent, if he thought so himself, but others couldn't fly their way out of a wet paper bag.

As the largest pieces, the Kings and Queens, started to hit the ceiling, more wards appeared, these targeted on the individual pieces themselves, preventing them from damage.

Harry grunted, increasing the power of his spell. The floor pushed and strained, before the wards on the largest pieces shattered, and the items themselves started to make contact with the ceiling. Again, the upwards motion halted, this time only to built up sufficient power to crack the pieces.

The process repeated itself for the other chess-pieces, until there was no more room between floor and ceiling, before Harry let the floor recede back to its usual place.

Reverting it took just as much time and effort as raising it had been, and Harry vowed not to use this particular mental image ever again. Too slow, and too time-consuming.

When the floor dropped, the results brought cheers from the assembled group, as only white and black dust was visible, and the entire group could just walk across.

Pushing open the door on the other side of the room, Harry's stomach quenched at the sickening smell. He threw one look inside, and smashed the door closed again, seemingly cursing to himself. "Complacency. Complacency," he muttered to himself. He looked up. "Alright, we have another Mountain Troll. Last time, I hit it over the head with something heavy, then blew its head off with a grenade. We still have some grenades, just not something heavy enough to clobber the thing over the head with."

"Eh... can't we shoot it?" Neville asked, jostling his AK-47, as if there were any doubt what he were talking about.

Harry shook his head. "Last time, my Glock was useless. The AK may have more luck, or it may not. Best to plan as if it does not." Neville shrugged, then nodded.

"Too bad there are no chess pieces left," Padma muttered, looking at the scattered dust.

"Or an RPG," Harry said. "I _knew_ I should have taken one, rather than go for the light weaponry."

"_This_ you call light weaponry?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed. "If we had some fifty caliber machine guns, an RPG, or a LAW, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"RPG? LAW?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed again. "Rocket-Propelled Grenade, Light Anti-Tank Weapon. Both are kinda like rockets being fired at the targets. Good at taking out armoured units. Or Mountain Trolls, I wager." Suddenly, he looked up. "Anyone brought a claymore or two?" He got head-shaking. "Any other kind of explosive? Semtex?" He really should pay better attention to all the equipment his team asked him to duplicate. He hadn't retained any knowledge of explosive or claymore mines, but it never hurt to ask.

"Is _that_ what it does?" Dean asked, holding out a packet that looked like clay. "I thought it was just clay of some kind."

Harry planted his head fists on his hips. "Semtex is a high explosive. You are just lucky it is stable – or making... horse figurines... out of it would have blown you to pieces," he snapped, grabbing the two tiny horse figurines out of Dean's hands. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. "Did you at least bring the detonator?"

Dean looked oddly at him, then shrugged. "Fantastic. Explosives, but no way to detonate them." He rubbed his chin, then thought of something. "Maybe this will work, and maybe not, but at least we'll have tried," he muttered, grabbing one of his grenades, and firmly pressing the Semtex to it, then grabbed the pin, gave it a yank, and pressed down on the lip, keeping it closed.

"Just work," he prayed, throwing the door open with one hand, pitching the grenade-Semtex into the room, then smashing the door closed. Three seconds later, everyone was firmly on the ground, following Harry's example, and the blast wave washed over them, making the floor tremble, and actually dislodging dust and stone fragments from the ceiling and walls.

Cautiously, Harry looked up. The stench from the Troll reached his nose, but there was no sound of Troll movements. Slowly, he got to a low stance, shuffling forward, aware that Neville and the others were covering him, shuffling behind him.

When he looked into the room, he winced. "Not pretty, but effective," he reported, getting fully to his feet. He ignored the retching sounds from behind him as he shuffled to the next door, which had been blown apart by the explosion as well. He edged past it, taking a peak inside.

When the sounds died down, he motioned his team to him, still ignoring the pasty white colour of most of them, and the acrid stench of vomit hanging around them.

"A Potions test," Hermione said, grabbing the supplied parchment and studying the riddle. She read the riddle supplied, then thought for a few seconds, and pointing to the smallest bottle. "That one will allow you to walk through the fire leading to the next room. There's only enough for one, though."

"Hermione, Hermione," Harry chided softly. "Never act-"

"As the enemy wants you to act," Hermione added in. "Yes, I know."

Harry grinned, and grabbed his wand. One Ward-Hammer, coming up.

It only took one try this time – either the warded fire wasn't as potent as the earlier wards, or Harry had gotten better.

As he looked into the next room, Harry seemed to pale. "Oh, shit."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"This is not good," Harry muttered as he stepped into the room, unblocking the doorway, allowing the others to fan in behind him. "Whatever you do – do NOT look into that mirror. It's hallucinogenic." He swallowed. "And addictive. Last time, I dreamt of this thing for over a week before I got a solid night's rest." He motioned to the room. "See if you can't find the Philosopher's Stone."

The others nodded, fanning out, trying to find the mysterious Stone. Harry stayed near the door, staring at the mirror. Here was a trap he couldn't fight through physical strength, only through mental strength. It was insidious, and it was tenacious. Last time, he had needed to destroy it in order to be able to break free of its ensnaring illusions.

"We can't find it," Neville reported, throwing a look at the Mirror. As both he and Harry weren't directly in front of it, neither saw something. Harry drew a breath. "I guess we'll need to look into the mirror," he said, softly. The next moment, he drew a breath, remembering one of the lessons confided into him by a former superior officer. _When leading men, always sound confident, and positive. Never let on how much you doubt, either yourself or the outcome, for it will mean loss of morale in the people you lead._

"Neville."

"Harry?"

"I am going to look into the mirror. If I space out for more than a few minutes, I want you to destroy the mirror. Last time, shooting it did the trick quite nicely." Neville nodded his acceptance, and Harry stepped in front of the strange mirror.

Last time, he had seen himself surrounded by the best of the best of soldiers, and he expected to see the same thing here.

To his surprise, he just saw himself, who saluted. Despite himself, Harry snapped his heels together, jumping at attention, saluting his mirror image. The image relaxed, stood at rest, then put one hand in his pocket, lifting it out, and showing a red stone. The Philosopher's Stone! He placed it back in his pocket, and Harry could feel his own pocket weighing down.

Blinking, he stepped away, grabbing the red rock in his pocket, and lifting it out. "Ingenious placeholder," he declared, covering the stone once more.

"So, I was right," a voice said, from beyond the door leading to the potions room. As he stepped over the threshold, the assembled students felt their jaws drop.

Except for Harry – who had perfected his poker face long ago, and no longer allowed himself to show the surprise he felt constantly in the Wizarding World.

"Professor Quirrell," Harry said, calmly. "I should have known."

The man lifted an eyebrow in a contemptuous gesture. "Oh?" he drawled.

"Your act was too perfect," Harry said. "Stuttering, afraid of your own shadow, surrounded by garlic smell, deathly afraid of vampires. You played your role perfectly, and distracted all of us quite nicely. I should have realized it was you who was after the Stone. To my own shame, I did not suspect you." He shrugged. "But then again, I am still young, and hope to learn from this experience."

"You have the Stone, Potter. Give it to me."

Harry crossed his arms, and did his best to throw the contemptuous eyebrow-lift back in Quirrell's face. "Everyone?"

Neville and his group lifted their AK-47's. Hermione and her group lifted their wands. Most of them were clearly terrified – the others were still terrified, but hid it better.

"So young, and already your own army. Potter, I am impressed. Now, give me the Stone, and nobody needs to die."

"Turn around, and you don't need to die either," Harry replied.

"Let me speak to him," a high voice said, sounding from underneath the turban atop the Professor's head. _Now_ Harry's poker face slipped, as he felt dread ice its way up his spine. Terror the likes of which he hadn't known since long froze the blood in his veins.

Quirrell was silent for a few seconds, then started unwrapping the turban, turning around to show the back of his head to Harry.

The back of Quirrell's head was covered by a face, with red yes, and slitted nostrils. "See what you turned me into?" the face demanded. "Shadows and vapours! Only able to exist when sharing others' forms! Now, give me that Stone in your pocket, so that I can live again!"

Forcing the icy terror down, Harry drew a deep breath. "I don't think so."

Quirrell sprang forward, making a grab for Harry, who ducked away, and backhanded the man as he went underneath his outstretched arms. At one, Quirrell screamed, as if being burned. Harry blinked. _This_ could be interesting. At once, he dashed aside, and jumped on top of Quirrell's back, locking his tiny, eleven-year-old hands around Quirrell's neck, doing everything in his power to choke the man.

Staring into the face in the back of Quirrell's skull as he did so gave the entire scene something... macabre to Harry, as the professor screamed and trashed, and the unidentified face shouted at Harry.

Finally, the trashing subsided, and the unidentified face detached from Quirrell, flashing away.

"Let get out of here," harry said, cursing his own weakness that made his voice sound weak. When he took a step, the room seemed to dance around him, and to his great surprise, he found himself propped up by Neville, who drew one arm over his shoulders, and placed his right arm around Harry's shoulders. The next moment, Dean was under his other arm.

"That was incredible," Hermione muttered, sounding halfway between terrified and shell-shocked.

Harry just nodded, allowing his friends to prop him up. "At least it's over," he muttered, looking at his downed enemy, partly choked and partly burnt to death. "We'll need to talk to the Headmaster."


	8. Shuttle 6b Full Metal Magic part 2

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft six: Full Metal Magic**

Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: Full Metal Panic

Timeframe: AU, age 1+

Last updated: 30th November 2009

Author's note: Major time-line fiddling required for this one. The goal is to place Harry and Sousuke Sagara within two years of each other. Even thought Full Metal Panic never really gave a date for their timeline, the tech level suggest they are in the mind-2000's in some areas, and twenty years further down the line in others. As Harry Potter is stated to take place in the early 90's, but never really shows much technology, there shouldn't be too much of an issue fiddling the timeline to make the two coincide. Maybe I'll just declare the Harry Potter universe to be moved up a decade or two – I've seen other authors do this when they have the characters use DVDs rather than videotape...

00000 year Two, Sorting Feast 00000

Harry's little Study group from last year had gathered at their traditional place- at the end of the Gryffindor table. However, there was no sight of Harry, and Professor McGonagall had started the Sorting ceremony about fifteen minutes ago.

She was just about to ask 'Lovegood, Luna' to come and sit on the chair when the large double doors banged open, revealing a Harry Potter putting his right foot back down on the ground, obviously having kicked the doors open.

As he strode in, it became obvious why, as his hands were holding on to a chain, which was attached to a chained up... something... struggling on the boy's back. He walked the length of the Great Hall, and snapped at attention before the Head Table. As he did so, he let go of his burden, letting it _thump_ heavily on the slated floor. He saluted perfectly.

"My apologies, Sir, but I was detained," he said, shooting a small look at the struggling bundle on the floor. "This... creature... attempted to sabotage my return to Hogwarts, claiming it was dangerous to my health to return. As I perceived that to be a threat, I proceeded to activate my defences."

Here, he looked uncomfortable, and glared at the struggling creature. "It survived, consecutively, three claymore traps, a pitfall with poisonous spikes, and a spike trap snapping shut. Since it became obvious I could not kill it within the timeframe allotted, I proceeded to capture the creature, chained it up, and brought it with me." He looked back to the creature. "For interrogation."

The large bulbous eyes opened even larger, and it started frantically shaking its head, mumbling through the improvised gag keeping it silent. Harry kicked the creature in the ribs. "Silence. I will tell you when to speak."

"Perhaps you could release its gag, and allow us to know its identity?" Dumbledore asked, kindly.

Harry glared at the creature, a look that promised death and destruction to it should it say or do anything that did not stroke with what Harry had already said, and leaned down to release the gag.

"I... I is Dobby," Dobby muttered. "Dobby is good House-Elf! Dobby just wanting to help Harry Potter Sir! Harry Potter Sir in danger at Hogwarts! Harry potter Sir good master, knows how to punish like good master should. Dobby not sorry to have tried to help Harry Potter Sir! But Dobby is bad Dobby, going against his master. Dobby must punish self! Dobby will-" Dobby's stream of consciousness was cut off when Harry replaced the gag.

"Thank you, Mister Potter," Dumbledore said, sincerely. "Perhaps we can figure out more at a later time. Please take your seat."

"Not so fast!" someone screamed from the Slytherin table. "What are you doing with my House-Elf, halfblood!"

"Draco Malfoy," Harry identified out loud. "This is your saboteur?"

"What?" Draco asked, blinking.

"This creature attempted to sabotage my return to Hogwarts. Luckily, death threats are nothing new to me, but I am sure that anybody else would have been suitably impressed." He grabbed the loose chain, and walked back to the Gryffindor table, where his little group had saved him a spot. Dobby was dragged behind him.

"Release my Elf at once!" Malfoy blustered.

Harry looked at Dobby. "He your master?"

The trussed-up, gagged, dragged-across-the-floor House-Elf really looked as if it wanted to deny, but nodded reluctantly. "I see. Want me to release you?"

The creature looked hopeful, then sad. "You are mine by right of conquest," Harry then said, and looked at Malfoy. "Piss off." He walked to his seat, sat down, and released the chains. "Talk to Tilly, she's a House-Elf here at Hogwarts. She will tell you what to do. Wait until I need you. I will call, later tonight, and we will talk about your previous behaviour, and how to change it for the better."

Dobby got to its legs, obviously still a bit shaky. Finally, he seemed to come to his senses, and snapped a passable salute, similar to what he had seen harry do minutes earlier. Harry, startled, returned it. The elf vanished.

"My elf, you insolent bastard!" Malfoy raged. "I demand restitutions for my elf!"

"Your House-Elf attacked me. I have caught him. He is mine to do with as I please. And now sit down. Some people are waiting to be sorted, and others are waiting to eat. Some of us have not eaten in three days, and are quire hungry."

"But-"

Malfoy sat down when Harry pulled his Glock, and shot three stray hairs off Malfoy's scalp – right next to his right ear. The boy had _felt_ the bullet pass by him.

"Next time, I will aim to the left. And I do not miss," Harry said. He looked at McGonagall. "My apologies for the interruption, Ma'am."

"Tha... That's alright," she muttered, and finally asked Lovegood, Luna to come and be sorted.

When even Snape remained silent at the sight of Harry slapping down Malfoy, the newly sorted students... and everybody else, release, knew where the real power in Hogwarts was lying now.

And it was firmly focused around Harry Potter, and his close study group from last year. None of them seemed surprised at what happened, nor of the various reactions. Many of them vowed to see if they could join Harry's study group. After all, it seemed that they were powerful, both magically and physically, as well as politically.

Harry's life would never be the same.

00000 New recruits and expansions 00000

Just how different became obvious a week later, as by some unspoken agreement, over four dozen students showed up, trying to join. Much to harry's, and everybody else's, surprise, not only first and second years were present, but even some upperclassmen were there, including Cho Chang, the Weasley Twins, and half of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Harry stared out over the hopeful applications, almost unable to hide his surprise – as well as his disdain at how much of his time this would take. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He hardly had time to train himself with his present group, consisting out of Hermione and Neville and the others from last year. "No," he finally said. "I don't have the time for this. I hardly have time to train myself, let alone the others from last year."

Half the assembled students, practically filling up the library, started to mutter and turn away. "Harry, can't we organize something?" Hermione asked. "I mean, you've helped us all tremendously, it wouldn't be fair not to try and help the others, when they ask for it." The muttering students turned back to Harry; hopeful and silent once more.

Harry sighed. "We'll need to work things out, then," he said. "Fine. Those of last year, meet me at our training location in half an hour, we'll see if we can't organize this."

The next day, the entire group was back in the library, following a message from Harry.

"I think you will all be happy to hear that my people and I have managed to come up with a training schedule to will allow me the time to work everything out, our schedules, trainings, and keep enough free time to uphold my own, more rigorous, training schedule." He motioned to the 'old guard', those who had been with him last year. "Hermione and Neville will be your commanding officers. You will obey them before you obey yourself. When they tell you to jump, you will jump, as high and as far as you can, until they tell you to stop." His hand kept travelling. "The others are your drill sergeants. Their jobs will be to train you. As hard and as fast and as strong as they can make you, in as short an amount of time as possible."

He linked his hands behind his back, and walked around the muttering group. "This will not be easy. This will not be fun. You will curse my name, you will hate Hermione and Neville, and you will despise your drill sergeants. All of this will change when you do your first test, and realize that you no longer feel nervous because no mere test or exam can inspire the same kind of terror as you will experience very day. You will succeed beyond your wildest dreams because you will be pushed to your limits, gaining strength and speed and knowledge beyond your wildest dreams."

He completed his first circle, and stopped to face them. "In return, we all ask your unwavering dedication. Quitting is not allowed. Falling behind will not be tolerated. We will push you, and we will push you hard. We will teach you reserves you did not know you had, and then teach you to deplete them. We will make you tired, we will make you hungry, and we will exhaust you. And you will be as we are – at the top of your age group."

He motioned to the door. "This is your final chance. Leave now. If you do not, we will start your training, and we will hex you before we allow you to leave. Chose."

The entire group of students stared at Harry; nobody was able to believe the speech he had just delivered. Nobody left. Harry nodded grimly, and turned. "Ladies. Gentlemen. Your students. Evaluations are in two weeks, it's your job to separate the wheat from the chaff."

Those two weeks were the hardest two weeks any of the new recruits had ever lived through. While Harry separated himself for a few hours each day, trying to come up with how to organize the new group after 'basic training' had finished, it became a common sight to see Harry's original study group debate some interesting piece of magical theory, while the new recruits chewed their food mechanically, almost too exhausted to sit upright.

But there was no denying the results, as after only a few days there was a remarkable amelioration of the attitudes and abilities in the new recruits.

Well, all except for one.

The same Lovegood, Luna, whose Sorting had been postponed slightly because of Harry's unusual entrance, sorted into Gryffindor immediately after, had taken to the training as a fish took to water. She cheerfully went through the most gruelling exercises, she laughed at the rigorous physical exercise, and enjoyed the magical drills they were put through.

At first, everybody had made fun of her, had laughed and sneered at her. After only a few days, when the constant exhaustion started to wear down everybody else, that attitude had changed, and the other recruits now routinely went to Luna for help with some drill they had trouble with, or asking on tips on how to weather the physical exercises.

After the first week, Harry, along with Neville and Hermione, started to interview to prospective candidates, hopeful that the continuous stress would show them more of the students then they necessarily wanted to reveal under normal circumstances.

Nobody could doubt that the interview with a bright and cheerful Luna Lovegood was anything other than interesting.

"There is no such thing as a Crumple-Horned Snorkack!" Hermione shouted.

Harry shrugged. "There is no such thing as magic, either."

"We know magic is real!" Hermione protested.

"We do _not_ know magic is real," Harry replied. "So far, I have not received a single piece of empirical evidence that magic is real. Simply because I wave a stick and mutter some words triggers a reaction does not mean it is magic. I do _not_ know how the effects come to be, and nobody has explained the reasoning behind it to me. So far, I am taking on faith that waving my wand a certain way, and muttering the correct words, will trigger the correct response. I do not know the reason behind them. Just as I take spells and magic on faith, I can not dismiss out of hand that Luna's theories about different creatures and conspiracy theories are incorrect."

Hermione's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "But... But..."

"He has you there, Hermione," Neville said.

"But I _can_ prove magic to you!" she finally blustered.

"Using _magical_ mathematics," Harry answered. "I can invent my own mathematics and use it to prove that one plus one equals three. It does not mean anything unless it can be explained by simple physics." He took out his gun and slammed it down on the table. "A gun is simple. Squeezing the trigger forces the hammer to strike the percussion cap in the back of the cartridge, setting up a small explosion which launches the actual bullet out the barrel. Physics. Cause and effect. Prove to me using the same simple explanations that waving my wand and muttering words triggers the correct response."

Hermione blushed bright red, and hung her head. "Magic is belief," Harry finally said, holstering his gun. "As are Luna's creatures. And her theories. In fact, she may be the most knowledgeable of all of us. We must believe her."

Hermione said nothing further.

After the second week of training was over, Harry assembled everyone into the Room of Requirement, which, for the occasion, had been 'required' to turn into a large hall, rather than training grounds.

Looking at his assembled 'troops', Harry came to parade rest, hands linked behind his back.

"Gentlemen. Ladies. You have all succeeded beyond my wildest expectations. Your superior officers have told me that your conduct and your dedication has been commendable." He looked over his troops as he said so, his eyes coming to rest of the two redheaded Weasley Twins, the duo he had most expected trouble from.

Much to his, and everybody else's, surprise, they had conducted themselves well, and being driven to exhaustion had removed any chance they had of either playing pranks or back-talking. By the time they had a chance to think things over, they were already in too deep, and were already seeing the results.

How much difference two weeks made.

"As this group is too large to manage by myself, I have decided to organize us along the lines of a military unit. It will allow everybody with the maximum amount of spare time, while still driving ourselves upward. For, you have just completed a basic training course. We must now build you up to become real men and women, the same way I trained last year's group. And, at the same time, myself and the others must increase our own abilities as well. We are far from perfect, and will need to train ourselves to get better."

He took a small box, and attached some insignia to his uniform. A stylized M ornament was placed over his heart, on top of the embroiders Hogwarts patch. With a wave of his wand, a few insignia attached themselves to his sleeves, as well as to his shoulders.

"As commander of this group, I shall hold the rank of First Lieutenant," Harry said. "As my general staff, I will have the following commanding officers for the various groups to be selected from among you. For the Operational Division, Second Lieutenant Neville Longbottom."

Neville stepped forward, and Harry pinned the insignia to Neville's robes. With a small handshake and a congratulations, Harry indicated to Neville to stand behind him.

"For the Research and Development Division, Second Lieutenant Hermione Granger."

"For the Medical Division, Second Lieutenant Susan Bones."

Harry looked at his students. Most of them were no doubt expecting to be split up among the various divisions now. He was well aware this next decision may not go over so well; but then again, he _was_ the commanding officer, and it was his right to make himself unpopular with the troops. "For the Magical Intelligence Department, Second Lieutenant Luna Lovegood."

The expected outbursts didn't come, although the blonde in question did look highly surprised as she stepped forward, as if unable to believe what she was hearing. As he had done with Hermione and Susan, Harry pinned the various insignia to Luna's robes, not at all caring that he was touching a girl's chest.

"Congratulations, Second Lieutenant," he said, holding out his hand. She grasped it with both hands.

"Thank you, Harry!"

Some laughter from in front and behind him. Harry shook his head. "You're supposed to call me 'Sir', now, Lieutenant."

Luna grinned. "Sorry, Sir!"

Harry shook his head. That was most definitely the most insolent 'sir' he had ever heard. She released his hand, and stepped to the others. He turned back to the others. If Luna's promotion didn't get a reaction, maybe the next one _would_.

"For the House-Elf auxiliary-" some gasps and blank looks. "Second Lieutenant Dobby."

Dobby popped in right next to Harry, dressed impeccably in a miniature Hogwarts uniform, although without the specific trim to denote him a member of a specific house. Over the last two weeks Harry had taken quite a bit of time to talk to the unusual House-Elf, training him, talking to him, explaining things to him and getting things explained in return.

With a House-Elf's unlimited amount of energy, training and physical fitness was not required, and with a House-Elf's innate sense of magic, magical training was not required either. Coupled to the fact that Dobby could pop anywhere in the castle at a moment's notice made this a no-brainer for Harry.

He knelt down to be on the same height as Dobby, and pinned the insignia to Dubby's Hogwarts uniform.

"Congratulations, Second Lieutenant," Harry said, holding out his hand. Dobby grasped it, practically weeping.

"Thank you so much, Sir. Dobby not let Sir down. Dobby will be bestest second lieu- leu- liet- officer Sir has!"

Harry smiled slightly. The poor elf had problems pronouncing the bigger English words, he'd have to remember that. "I'm sure you will." Dobby released the hand, and popped to the line where the other officers were waiting.

Harry went through the rest of the people. Those of last year became non-commissioned officers, Sergeant-Majors. The new recruits were all enlisted as Sergeant First Class, something Harry had decided to do to do away with the plethora of ranks in the regular armies around the world. He didn't want to create envy among his troops, he wanted to create unity and structure. If that meant doing away with a few ranks and 'promoting' his people faster than was strictly ethical, so be it.

After all, it was debatable whether they would ever need to go into combat, and this was still done primarily to get better results at school.

But the again, it never hurt to be prepared.

When he had pinned the last insignia to the chest and sleeves and shoulders of Angelina Johnson (and interesting experience for Harry, as she appeared far more 'squishy' than the other girls had been), Harry waved his wand, dropping the canvas behind him and his officers.

"Ladies. Gentlemen. Welcome to the Magical Organization for Soldier Schooling and Applied Defence, MOSSAD for short."

00000 Increasing training, thank you, Daenerys for the premise and you, Elijah for a solution 00000

"Harry?"

Harry looked up, sharply, from where he had been reading a book that would make most yellow pages weep with envy. "Hermione?" he asked, sharply aware that he was in the library, not the Room of Requirement, and she thus wasn't required to call him 'sir'.

"How long has it been since you've slept?" Harry blinked at her, not expecting that question.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Tt's nine thirty," she replied dubiously.

Harry sighed. For a genius, Hermione could be remarkably obtuse. "The _day_, Hermione. Days are important."

"You haven't slept for _days_?" she practically screeched, getting a sharp admonishment from Madam Pince, the librarian.

"Depends. What day is it?"

"Wednesday," Hermione finally answered the question on a droll tone of voice.

"Then, yes, it has been days since I've slept. Three, to be exact," Harry said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go through this book. It's getting harder and harder to train you, add touches to the MOSSAD, train myself, do the coursework, and show up for class each day. Food is important. I try to have at least one good meal each day. Sleep, less so."

"Harry, killing yourself isn't the point here," Hermione said, gently, sitting down at the table, facing Harry. "I know you want to make us better, but sometimes, less is more. You're trying to do too much."

"With that incompetent bastard as DADA professor, there's very little choice. Quirrell may have been an evil SOB, but at least he knew how to teach. All Lockhart teaches is about himself. So now it's my job to make sure you and the others in the MOSSAD don't get yourselves killed."

"That's the teacher's job, Harry. You shouldn't-" she stopped when Harry's flat hand hit the desk with a resounding slap, silencing even the silent mutters from the other tables.

"It damn well IS my responsibility, Hermione! It became my responsibility when I became the leader of our study-group, it became my responsibility when I took the command post of the MOSSAD, and it will be my responsibility for as long as you and the others remain in it. That's what being commanding officer means, Hermione. To be responsible for those under your command." He took the stack of parchments he had been writing on, slipped them on top of the open page in his tome, and slammed it shut. Lifting it under his arm without effort, he started to walk away. "And now I'm going to study in peace. Get some sleep, Hermione, you look beat as well. Good night."

"Yes, Sir," she said, quietly, after swallowing a few times. When she stood up to leave, she found those few students in the library, as well as the librarian, stare at her. "No matter what," she snapped, "Harry is and remains the best officer we can hope for, this just proves it." She lifted her head and walked out of the library, not sparing a single glance to the students or the librarian.

The next morning, Hermione was glad to see Harry at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, working his way through an enormous breakfast. Nobody bothered him, partly because of the air of unapproachability he had around him, and partly because his nose was still buried in that same book from last night.

"I thought you'd be through that book in one night," Hermione joked, sitting down opposite Harry, and drawing some breakfast to herself.

"Sorry for not being a super-genius, and sorry for the fact that my basic schooling... well, wasn't. I'm lucky I can read, write, and add," Harry replied levelly, looking up at her, before going back to his book.

"You can add, but not subtract, multiply, or divide?" Hermione asked with a small smile, hoping to lift his mood.

Harry looked up at her once more, and gave a tiny smile. "Why are you here, Hermione?" he finally asked, when it became clear they were just going to look at each other otherwise.

"I found a solution for your problem," Hermione said with a gallant shrug, then resumed her breakfast.

When it became clear she wasn't going to elaborate, Harry sighed. "And what problem have you found a solution to?"

"Your time-management problem," Hermione replied primly, and once again resumed eating.

"Don't make me pull rank, Hermione," Harry said, sounding annoyed again.

"Sorry, Sir," Hermione replied, smiling thinly. "The problem is that you're the only one with actual experience – and the only one who knows what he is talking about when it comes to training and such. Neville and I can take over for you, but only after we've been trained ourselves, and even then, we're only beginners trying to teach raw recruits. The solution – is the Room of Requirement."

"Oh?" Harry asked, putting down his quill, and looking at her. "And how does the Room solve the problem?"

"It's better if I showed you," Hermione said. "After breakfast?"

Harry looked at the other MOSSAD officers, saw no dissent, and nodded. "After breakfast." He slammed his book shut, and started eating in earnest. "Damn book is dry as a desert."

After breakfast, the entire cadre of the MOSSAd trooped to the seventh floor, where Hermione paced in front of the Room of Requirement, 'requiring' something else entirely.

The door appeared, an hourglass present on the door. "I got this idea from a manga I was reading." When she got a few blank looks, as well as startled gasps from others, hermione sighed. "Manga are japanese comic books, and yes, I do not spend all my time reading school books. Sometimes, a girl likes some down time." She drew a breath, and resumed, "this manga had something called a 'Hyperbolic Time Chamber'. Basically, one day outside means one year inside. You go in, and a year passes, while only a day passes on the outside. Just make sure you have plenty of food and other supplies."

"Interesting concept," Harry said. "I could train all of you up with two or three years at my disposal."

"Three _years_?" Hermione asked, suddenly not sounding so happy with herself. "I thought six months or so..."

"Six months is enough for me to teach you not to shoot yourselves in the foot. Or recognise the difference between ordinary grenades and thermite grenades. Or not to use Semtex for modelling clay. It is _not_ enough for you to become good instructional cadre. Or myself, for that matter," Harry added with a sigh. "I need a lot of work myself."

Hermione let the door vanish. "Even a year will be noticeable. I mean, we're elven or twelve years old, we grow. If we were to be inside for a year, or two, or three, we'll physically continue to grow, and it'll be really apparent we're not eleven or twelve anymore."

Hermione started pacing again. The same door appeared, only the hourglass symbol had been replaced by an arithmantic equation that made Harry's head hurt. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to understand completely. She nodded.

"We will not physically age inside," she finally said, after giving the equation one more look-over. She opened the door, and looked inside. Smiling, she looked at her companions. "Plus, it's provided us with a military academy."

"Nice," Harry said with a grin. "You really are as smart as you are rumoured to be."

"Gee, thanks," Hermione said on a sarcastic tone, but still smiling widely at the compliment, taking the sting out of it. "How does Saturday sound? We'll go inside on saturday, come out on monday morning. That's two years right there. We'll take the other two years the weekend after that?"

Harry nodded. "It's decided, then." He turned. "And now, I am going to get a nice, full, four hours of sleep."

"Harry! What about classes?"

"Classes can wait," Harry muttered. "I need sleep first. Take notes for me, Hermione, I'll catch up later." With those words, Harry vanished around the corner.

"Even when we're not in the Room he orders me around," she muttered.

"All of us," Neville replied with a small smile. "I don't think Harry gets the difference completely." He shrugged. "But, I don't mind. I've never felt better."

Next Saturday, Harry walked up to the seventh floor, ready to begin a four-year stint at the Room of Requirement Military Academy. When he turned the corner, to his surprise, he found more than just his general staff.

"Sergeants Weasley," Harry greeted the Weasley Twins. "Your reason for being here?"

"Because we'll be joining you, of course!" the first twin – George, possibly, replied. Harry lifted an eyebrow.

"And you've decided this by yourselves?"

"Yup!" The two twins replied in unison.

Harry nodded. "The Academy will do you good. It will show you that there are things you do need to ask permission for," he said, stepping past them, not providing any more feedback and ignoring their grins. Much to Harry's surprise, those were not the only ones who decided to join in the fun, and by the time that they were to enter the Room's Military Academy, just about the entire MOSSAD had shown up.

Harry merely shook his head, turned, opened the door (as provided by Hermione), and led them all inside.

After that one weekend, and two subjective years of Military Academy training, the differences were blatantly obvious.

All of the MOSSAD members sat straight in their seats, quiet and attentive, taking copious notes and developing a wicked sharp attention to detail. The training wasn't as harsh as Harry had hoped it'd be, but overall, he was quite happy with the results.

At least his subordinates had finally learned to call him 'sir', and saluted at the necessary times.

Plus, he, himself, was learning a lot of things that had been omitted in his battlefield training, things he would need to know if he were to become a decent commanding officer.

As they sat down together, at the Gryffindor table, straight, silent, and eating first before engaging in quiet private talk, the entire Great Hall stared at them.

Never before had such a large group of students behaved in such a... mature... manner.

Dumbledore's eyes shifted to Harry. It was all because of him, Dumbledore was sure of it. The problem was, the boy was amassing an amazing amount of friends and power in a very short amount of time, and there was no way he could eject the boy now.

Not if he wanted his school intact, that is. The potential in Harry's friends had been skyrocketing, and it showed no signs of stopping. Dumbledore sighed, and looked at Severus Snape.

The Potions Master lifted an eyebrow, as if asking if he were interpreting the headmaster's look correctly. Dumbledore gave a surreptitious nod.

Snape looked back to the Gryffindor table, and met the eyes of one Harry Potter. As the Potions Master engaged in a staring contest, even if the whispered talks among the other MOSSAD members had dropped off, all of them locking their gaze upon Snape.

Severus Snape, the spy who could look Voldemort in the eye and lie his pants off, shuddered at the completely cold looks, devoid of any emotion, he received from an entire troop. Breaking eye contact and admitting defeat, eh glanced at Dumbledore and shook his head slightly. No, he wasn't going to do this.

00000 A couple of students get frozen 00000

"This is getting dangerous," Harry said, pacing the length of the Room of Requirement, where the entire MOSSAD had been called together. Hermione had cobbled together some nice communication spells and attached them to the M-badges they all wore, enabling them to speak to anyone – or everyone – with merely a tap on the badge. "Whatever it is – it is freezing students. From now on, everyone moves in at least a pair. The first one to be seen alone will be punished severely."

The MOSSAD nodded mutely. After all, there was not much they _could_ do otherwise, was there?

"Lieutenant Granger, you will figure out what is causing this."

"Yes, Sir," Hermione replied, stiffening slightly as he addressed her.

"Lieutenant Longbottom, you will be her partner. Do not let her out of your sight."

"Yes, Sir," Neville replied, equally stiffening. "Sir? What about bathroom breaks?"

Harry glanced at him. "You are our best fighter, apart from me. This is no time to become squeamish, Lieutenant. I will partner with Lieutenant Lovegood. She, as our Magical Intelligence specialist, will be the second person trying to figure out what is happening."

Luna stiffened, and nodded. Four year of subjective Military Academy had shaped her mind.

00000 End of Year 0000

"It's a Basilisk," Hermione said. "I just couldn't figure it out – what would freeze people, but things finally came together. A Basilisk kills with its eyes, but if that stare is refracted – or reflected – it merely freezes people, rather than kill them."

"Can you find it?" Harry asked.

"I'll need a few minutes to calibrate a tracking spell, but it shouldn't be too hard," Hermione replied.

At that moment, the doors were thrown open, Lucius Malfoy angrily striding in. "Not good," Harry muttered.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, half a dozen students have been frozen under your watch, and now a young pureblood girl has been taken – probably into the Chamber of Secrets itself! On behalf of the Board of Governors of Hogwarts, backed by the Ministry of Magic, I must hereby ask you to leave, and this school will be closed immediately pending future investigations!"

Harry had a split second to make a decision. Hermione's tracking spell would lead them into the Chamber of Secrets, which would mean he had a chance to correct all of this. But, if the school were to be closed, that'd be difficult to do. On the other hand, the Headmaster had been getting on Harry's nerves more and more. It seemed that the old man was playing a game, a game with Harry as its stakes.

Finally, he stood up. "Headmaster Dumbledore will not," Harry said. "MOSSAD. Secure this room."

A dozen students jumped up, pointing wands. Harry tapped his badge. "Potter to every MOSSAD member – we have identified the assailant. Order to pair up has been rescinded, and make your way to the Great Hall immediately. We are securing the Great Hall until the threat has been eliminated." He tapped it again to close the channel.

"Lieutenants Granger and Longbottom, you're with me. The rest of you, keep this room secured. Nobody leaves."

"Yes, Sir!" Susan said, straightening her back, assuming the command with grace and poise that could only be instilled in the finest Military Academies.

"So, Mister Potter thinks he can take over, does he?" Malfoy Senior drawled.

"I _know_ I can take over," Harry replied. "Stand down before I have you shot."

Malfoy's sneer widened. "That's a mighty big threat you're making, Mister Potter. I hope you can back it up."

"I do," Harry said, inclining his head and turning to leave.

"Why are you doing this, Harry?" Dumbledore finally asked.

"It is the duty of every soldier to disobey on illegal orders. You are our superior officer. I do not agree with the verdict of this... item... to have you removed from command. Hence, I disobeyed his implied order to let you be taken and this school closed down. Sit down, Sir. You are under the protection of the MOSSAD now."

Dumbledore, shocked, sat down. Malfoy Senior, red with rage over being called an _item_, drew his wand.

And fell to the ground, screaming, when his wand-hand vanished into a ball of fire.

"What'd you know," Susan muttered. "I finally managed to cast a Hermione-Fireball."

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Bones," Harry said with a thin smile. "Good luck."

"You too, Sir."

As Harry left, with Hermione and Neville following him, he heard the elder Malfoy scream and threaten bloody murder, before it was cut off with an invocation from one of the Weasley Twins – an invocation he could hardly make out, but it sounded suspiciously like a full body bind.

One of Hermione's full body binds.

Which probably meant that only Hermione and Harry himself could ever remove it – seeing as the magic was still temperamental around the others.

As they raced away from the Great Hall, following Hermione's hastily-cast Basilisk-tracking spell, more and more members of the MOSSAD raced the other way. Harry nodded; the people in the Great Hall would soon be under complete lockdown.

He only hoped the adults wouldn't put up too much of a fuss – he was well aware of the fact that the MOSSAD, although trained incredibly well, were only teenagers who had yet to fire at another in anger.

They emerged into the girl's bathroom haunted by Myrtle. When the ghost was about to wail at them, Harry just glared in her direction. "Silence."

Shocked out of her mind, she obeyed.

"The spell tracks," Hermione said, pointing to one of the sinks.

"That sink never worked," Myrtle supplied, regardless of her order to be silent. Harry just nodded, and for a moment, it seemed as if the ghost sighed with relief.

"It's supposed to be Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets," Neville said. "Perhaps you can try ordering it to open up, Sir?"

Harry lifted an eyebrow in Neville's direction. "Open up," he told the sink, which refused to budge.

"I think Neville meant in Parseltongue, Sir?" Hermione said.

"I knew that," Harry said, acting as if he were just pulling their legs and trying to cover up his mistake. Whether he was successful, or his two subordinates just ignored it, he would never know.

"_Open up,_" Harry snapped at the sink, which obeyed, this time.

"That still gives me the shivers," Neville muttered. When Harry looked at him, the boy straightened out. "Sir."

"That is one slimy pipe," Hermione muttered, probing the empty cavernous space with a lumos-spell from her wand. "It's definitely deep, and the tracking spell reports that the Basilisk is down there. And where _it_ is, so should be who- or whatever took the Twins' little sister there."

They were still ignoring Ron, who was doing his very best not to be noticed any more. In fact, it looked as if he were about to repeat his second year, which would place him with his sister next year.

_If she survived, of course_, Harry's mind added. "I will take point. Hermione, behind me. Neville, cover our backs."

"One moment, Sir," Hermione interrupted. "A Basilisk kills by looking into your eyes. With your permission, I will charm your glasses to protect you. Neville and I don't have such glasses, it'd be best if we weren't to enter the Chamber itself."

Harry nodded, picked his glasses off his nose, and handed them to Hermione, who immediately started casting. Thirty seconds later, he was handed his glasses back, completely repaired, free from the e-inevitable scratched they had accumulated, free of the tape used to stick them together, in perfect condition and shining better than he had ever seen them shine.

"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said, drawing a breath and his wand, and casting _lumos_ before jumping into the hole.

When they finally emerged from the pipe, Harry guessed they were halfway under the lake. "Good location," Harry said. "Tactically sound, strategically hidden." He put a hand against the wet walls. "This is solid bedrock. This place could survive an airstrike, probably."

"Especially if this tunnel has existed for a thousand years," Hermione added in.

"That is one big snake," Neville muttered as their combined _lumos_ spells stopped at a gigantic, shed, basilisk skin. Poisonous green and twenty foot long, it looked like a sleeping snake.

"Looks tasty, too," Harry replied levelly. Both Neville and Hermione locked their gazes, and shuddered together. They vividly remembered the one 'duel' between Harry and Draco Malfoy. Malfoy had conjured a snake – Harry had ordered it about, then grabbed it, bit its head off, and proclaimed it 'Lunch'.

Half the students had lost theirs right there and then.

On the other hand, nobody dared call him on his parseltongue abilities.

They followed the tunnel, creeping first this way then that way, before arriving before a solid wall, craved with two entwined serpents, their eyes glistening with inset emeralds.

"Pretty, if it weren't so scary," Neville muttered.

"I think this is where we part company. Neville, you're in charge. Hermione, great work on the spells. Keep each other alive while I'm gone," Harry said, turning to the serpents, and hissing _open_, at them.

Harry ignored the creepy atmosphere in the chamber itself, walking deeper into the dimly-lit chamber. If he hadn't had to fight for his life since an early age, Harry would probably be terrified. As it was, he was only on a heightened sense of alert, and welcomed the feeling of adrenaline like an old friend, one had had missed sorely.

The thrill of battle, it was something he hadn't felt since coming to Hogwarts and parting ways with his brother, and it was something he was almost looking forward to feeling once more.

If only his life wasn't at stake.

After all, he only had one, and he was quite fond of it.

"Ginny," he muttered when he knelt to one knee next to the small girlish figure, face-down, between the feet of what he assumed was a giant statue of Slytherin himself. Aware of battlefield protocol of not moving an injured person until a medic had cleared it, he slid his fingers to her neck.

She had a pulse.

"Ginny," he tried, gently patting her back. "Wake up."

"She won't wake," a soft voice said.

_Dammit, AGAIN!_ Harry's mental voice screamed as he rolled away, ending with him on his belly with his wand pointed in the direction of the voice. "Who the FUCK are you!"

"Tom Riddle," the figure replied, almost seeming amused at Harry's response, and question.

"That's who. Now, WHAT the fuck are you?"

Tom lifted an eyebrow, and this time, an amused little smile was definitely visible on his face. "I am a memory, preserved in a diary for fifty years."

As he pointed to a little black book next to one of the giant feet, Harry barely glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, keeping his gaze firmly attached to this... memory... that had taken Ginny. "I don't have time to deal with you," Harry finally said. "There is a Basilisk in here, and I would rather not fight it until necessary. Now, you will pick up Ginny, and carry her out of here."

"I don't think so," Tom replied. "We are going to talk."

"I don't talk," Harry said. "I fight." And with that, he spat a curse at Tom, who, it seemed, had been expecting it and simply side-stepped.

"We are going to talk," Tom insisted. "About how a small boy such as yourself, with no real talent, could defeat the greatest wizard of all time. How you escaped with nothing but a scar while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Voldemort was after your time."

Tom pulled Ginny's wand from his pocket, and started to write in the air. TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. When he waved the wand once more, the letters danced through each other. I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

"That's a horrible little joke. It was the best you could come up with?" Harry asked, chuckling darkly, debating on whether or not to send another spell in Tom's – Voldemort's – direction.

"I suggest you tell me how you survived against me – twice." Tom said. "The longer you talk, the longer you live."

Harry asked himself how Tom knew all this, when he came to a realization. A diary. He had been locked in a diary. And he had taken Ginny. He glanced furtively at the girl.

"She told me a lot about you, Harry," Tom answered Harry's unasked questions.

_Dammit, there goes the tactical advantage,_ Harry thought, jumping to his legs, and leading a barrage of spells at Tom. The other boy ducked, weaved, and parried with deft precision, ever so slightly edging backward as Harry pressed on. When he was near a wall, and realized he was about to be boxed in, Tom shouted, _Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!_

With the sound of stone grinding on stone, Harry ducked and rolled to a pillar, covering himself for whatever was to come – and he had a pretty good idea what that 'whatever' was.

And he was right. _Kill him!_ Tom's parseltongue voice hissed out.

As the Basilisk moved towards Harry, he had no other choice but to start casting at it.

For a moment, his eyes met the giant Snake's, and he heard a startled gasp from Tom – Voldemort – when he didn't drop dead on the spot. Casting spells was second nature to him, but none of his spells would penetrate.

He didn't go for his Glock, knowing for a fact that, if the spells did no damage, his sidearm would have no chance whatsoever.

As the Basilisk struck to impale him on its giant fangs, Harry's wand danced up, casting a Shadow Bolt spell from Hermione's repertoire. The shadows, omnipresent, reacted to his voice, and detonated with supreme force against the snake, which trashed wildly as it was blown back, before hissing angrily.

_Crap. That only pissed it off,_ Harry thought to himself. He barely had time to realize that one of the most potent spells he knew had merely succeeded in _pissing it off_, before it launched itself at him.

From dozen of feet away, faster than the last time.

He only had time to cast a single spell – the air shield spell. It only required half a sound worth of invocation, and air was everywhere.

As the air solidified, the snake hit it, managing to dislodge Harry from his present position, pushing him back.

It hurt like nobody's business, but it kept him alive.

And that was when Harry was becoming aware of something else.

The air was vibrating around him.

The air, stale, and undisturbed for a thousand years, had been amassing magic for that amount of time. It had been asleep, until Harry's pure air-related spell woke it up, and now it wanted in on the action. The air-shield harry had cast was not usually strong enough to blow off a strike from a Basilisk... unless there was a thousand years of untapped magical potential in the air.

Untapped magical potential that was now resonated through the chamber.

Harry smirked as he got up from where he had been pushed by the giant snake's previous attack on his unintentionally supercharged air-shield.

Muttering the air-blade spell under his breath, the magic in the room responded beautifully. As the air formed and displaced into wind, it fluttered around him, tugging at his clothes, making his hair blow in the stiffening breeze before settling at the tip of his wand, forming a solid blob of increasing air-pressure.

As Harry held the spell, the results increased as more and more air added its magic to the incantation. Air, invisible even at high speeds, became visible as it dragged at the floor and pulled up dust and small stones, pushing first Tom Riddle and finally the snake back as hurricane-class gales formed within the Chamber of Secrets.

"Die," Harry muttered, looking right at the Basilisk, looking it right in the eyes as it hissed angrily, withdrawing from the ever-increasing circle of high winds forming around Harry as he continued to charge the air-blade spell. The snake was aware it was looking its end in the eyes, and for one last time, it struck, trying to get through the winds, right before Harry terminated the spell with the finally sound in the sequence.

The ball of compressed air struck at the Basilisk in mid-flight, tearing through its near-impervious hide with deceptive ease, practically turning the snake inside out on its way through the massive body, before hitting the far wall, leaving two dozen deep blade-like markings where the air finally dispelled.

"Come here, Tom. Let me kill you," Harry muttered as he rounded to where Tom had been. Only to find the boy was no longer there.

Instead, he found him by Ginny's body, holding the girl's wand to her head. "I'll kill her, Potter! I swear it! I'll do it! Now I know how you kill Voldemort. You're an impressive boy, Potter. Never would I have imagined someone of your strength. But still, I must get out of here. I have to survive. So you will let me go or I swear I will kill her!"

"One should not negotiate with terrorists. Please, kill her," Harry said, lifting his wand, and starting to cast the air-blade spell again. A thousand years of pent-up magically frustrated air could not be used up in a single spell, and the effects started again.

"You can't kill me, Potter!" Tom shouted again, before shooting a fearful glance at the little black diary not too far away.

"But I _can_ destroy the book, can't I, Tom?" Harry asked, aborting his air-blade spell, feeling the air growl with frustration as he did so, and instead, reaching for a bell-flame spell. The fire element. Fire was transitory by its very nature, but there was nothing better to destroy paper and books with.

Tom blinked fearfully as streams of golden fire joined from the torches to Harry's wand-tip, aiming at the little book.

"No!" Team screamed, right before Harry let the bell-flames destroy the book. It exploded in a mass of paper and ink, and Tom fell in mid-jump, screaming and writhing and trashing, before vanishing into thin air, causing Ginny's wand to clatter on the floor.

Alone with his own thoughts and the deep breathing of his panting lungs, all Harry heard was the steady drip of ink coming off the diary.

And Ginny started to stir.

She blinked her eyes opened, stared at the destroyed diary, the inside-out Basilisk, and finally, a dust-covered Harry holding a smoking wand.

Literally, a smoking wand.

When she looked she was drawing a breath in order to go hysterics, Harry stepped to her. "Are you alright?" he barked at her, as coldly as he could.

She snapped her attention to him, sniffed, and nodded, while her waterworks factory opened completely, and she started crying. Harry sighed. He hated crying females. "Do not make me slap you," he shouted at her, which got her attention.

"Good. I hate crying women," he said, standing up from next to her. "Let's get out of here."

"H-Harry?"

He looked over his shoulder at her. "T-Thank you."

His face softened slightly. "You're welcome."

00000 A couple of days later 00000

Harry skilfully turned over one of the meat patties on the barbecue, making the move look as if he had been doing so all his life.

Then again, Hermione reflected, knowing Harry's background, he probably _had_ been doing this all his life.

"Did you feel any side-effects from channeling so much magic?" she asked.

Harry cocked his head, thinking for a few moments. "The next day, I felt somewhat tired, but nothing extensive. It _was_ a battle, it is supposed to hurt a bit the day after, or you didn't try hard enough."

Hermione nodded, and made a note in her _air_ ledger. "I see. Any downsides to your magic? More trouble casting spells? Unpredictable events?"

Harry was silent for a few seconds again, ordering his thoughts. "Now that you mention it, my spells feel somewhat stronger. Almost as if magic was a muscle that, due to the stress, had been incited into growing. Only, this was practically immediately."

Hermione blinked. "That is... unusual. We can exercise our magic, to improve our output, but magic doesn't _grow_." She made more notes. "I'll have to do some more research after the break is over." She scoffed slightly. "I hate not being able to do magic outside of school."

Harry looked at her. "Of course you can do magic outside of school."

"It's not allowed," Hermione said, looking straight at him.

"Difference between _shouldn't_ and _couldn't_. Remember last year? Never do-"

"What your enemy expects you to do. But Harry, these are our leaders!"

Harry shrugged. "I have no intention of following a rule I can not see as beneficial." He stared at the meat, flipped a patty before it burned. "Blame the Mujahedin."

"They'll expel you."

"No, they won't," Harry said, flipping one of the patties in between a bun. "Burger?"

"Sure," Hermione said, taking the hamburger. "Thanks. And why won't they expel you?"

"Leverage," Harry said with a faint grin. "They recruited me from the other side of the world, sparing no expense to retrieve me. They need me. I do not need them. And that makes me the most powerful man in the school, a fact that most people do not seem to realize."

Hermione took a bite from her burger, and chewed thoughtfully. Finally, she swallowed. "I think most people realize it plainly. The MOSSAD-"

"The MOSSAD has chosen to follow me. Even without all of you, I would still be the most powerful man in the school." He flipped two more patties in their buns. "I've got two burgers!"

Neville and Luna were the first ones there, and Harry spent the next few moments handing out food to an ever-increasing amount of students and assorted teachers and parents.

"This is really good," Neville said, licking his lips. "But it's not something I think I've ever eaten before. What is it?"

Harry grinned, finally managing to get a burger for himself. "Basilisk."

Everyone stopped eating, and warily eyed the patties on the grill, or the remnants of burgers in their hands. "Basilisk?"

Harry nodded. "It tasted just like rattlesnake. Quite tasty, nice and lean, and good to keep you going. I'm glad you all enjoy it, usually new recruits don't take to snake so well on their first try."

"Can I have seconds?" Luna asked, smacking her lips.

"Sure," Harry said, flipping a patty in a bun and handing it over.

The others eyed each other. Seeing no adverse reactions in either themselves or the others, the group seemed to come to the consensus that a Basilisk Burger was a) tasty, and b) not lethal, and so decided on solution c) – getting more before the supply ran out.

"Don't worry about running out," Harry shouted over the requests for more. "There's plenty more Basilisk where this came from."

"HARRY!"

Harry's reflexes snapped into action, and he flipped around, facing whatever was screaming at him. Seeing only a redhead, screaming her head off, racing at him, his reactions took over. As the assailant reached him, he grabbed her, and expertly flipped her over over his shoulder, smacking her into the ground.

His knee pressed down on her chest, his wand was held against her temple. "What is your objective?" he demanded angrily, complete silence descending over the outside picnic area.

Ginny Weasley, pale and shaking, just stared up at him, before asking, "Hug?"

Harry blinked. The next moment, he was standing up, his wand away, one hand extended to help her up. "Do not run at me, screaming at the top of your lungs. I do not react well."

She nodded from where she was, before grabbing his hand. To her surprise, he lifted her effortlessly to her feet, simply by pulling on her hand.

"Sir," The Weasley Twins said, snapping a perfect parade-salute. "Our most formal thanks for the rescue of our kid sister."

Harry returned the salute. "You are welcome, Fred, George. Burger?"

The twins looked at each other when every eye on the field focused on them. "Sure?"

Harry flipped two patties into buns, and held them out. Again, both twins hesitated when everyone kept staring at them. Muttering some spells, they found no strange magical substances in the meat or the bun.

"Tasty," Fred muttered.

"Very," George agreed. "But strange, though. What meat is it?"

"Basilisk," Harry replied straightforwardly.

The twins swallowed their bites and stared at the half-eaten buns. "This is a Basilisk Burger?" Fred asked.

"We're eating the Basilisk that tried to eat Ginny?" George added.

Said Ginny was drawing paler still.

Harry shrugged, then nodded.

"That's what you call 'poetic justice'," Fred finally decided, and took a bite. "Good burger, Harry. Thanks."

Harry grinned, and tended to his barbecue.

Ginny shuffled closer, still pale as a ghost. "So... Harry..."

"Yes?"

"Can I?" she asked.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Please be more precise. Can you what?" he replied, waving his wand to have some more minced Basilisk meat turn itself into meat patties.

She lifted her arms, spreading them slightly. "Hug?" she asked, smiling hopefully.

Harry stiffened, and he glanced toward Hermione, his tutor in social interactions. She giggled into the remains of her second burger.

Great tutor _she_ was, Harry thought. He turned to the Weasley Girl. "I see no reason not to acquiesce to your request," he finally replied.

It took Ginny nearly twenty seconds to work out what he had said, but finally determined that he had said 'yes', and clamped on to him. When he felt her burry her head in his chest, he started looking even more uncomfortable. When he felt her sobbing quietly, his discomfort was threatening to reach new levels.

His arms spread, he stared with dismay at the sobbing girl. "Help me!" he mimed to Hermione. "Get it off me!"

Hermione calmly walked over, and whispered to Harry that, usually, people hugged _back_ when they were being hugged. Harry looked at her with dismay.

"Just put your arms around her," Hermione counselled.

Harry sighed, and put his arms around the sobbing girl, not really knowing how to do it, but determined not to fail this latest mission life had thrown at him. "There. How does that feel?" Hermione asked, smiling slightly.

"Uncomfortable," Harry replied levelly. He looked down again. "And wet. She is soaking through my t-shirt." he looked back to Hermione. "Is a hug supposed to last this long?"

"It is if she's this distraught. You saved her, Harry. She just needs to let go."

Harry sighed, tightening his hug to Ginny without even realizing it. "The Basilisk is dead. There is no reason for further concern," he told the sobbing girl. "Please contain yourself."

"S-sorry," Ginny muttered, blushing bright red, jumping away from him, blushing bright red. He nodded.

"No problem. First battles are often traumatic. However, nobody was seriously injured, and there were no fatalities. Please enjoy the party." he waved his wand, flipping a few patties. "Burger?"

Ginny eyed the Basilisk Burgers. "Can you make mine with cheese?" she finally asked.

Harry lifted an eyebrow. He had never considered putting cheese on a burger before, but he realized that the taste might be interesting. "Dobby."

"Yes, Sir?" Dobby said, popping into existence.

"Please retrieve some cheese slices, sized to be put on hamburgers."

"Dobby do, Sir!" Dobby said, saluting, and vanishing.

"Just a few minutes," Harry said to the girl, before resuming his work. Or he tried to, when he suddenly found himself attacked by a Ginny Weasley on steroids – this new version was bigger, older, and possessed a truly formidable voice.

Her size, weight, and added strength was negated by Harry's shoulder, and her voice was stopped when Harry's wand came up to her temple. "What is your objective?" he demanded coldly.

"That's... mom..." Ginny muttered, at the same time as he heard Fred and George mutter _o-oh_.

00000 Year Three, train ride to school 00000

Harry had secured a nice compartment at the back of the train, where he and his command staff had gathered together to make plans for the coming year.

Suddenly, the train started to stop.

"Positions," Harry muttered, drawing his Glock with his left hand and his wand with his right. "We are not there yet, something is wrong."

At his command, the others started drawing weapons of their own, covering the door and the window.

The next moment, all the lights went out.

Harry cursed loudly, and they could hear him shift. The next moment, he had a flashlight, which he put into his mouth so he could grab his Glock once again, having shifted it to his right with his wand.

Seeing Harry unable to give orders, Neville, almost by instinct, took over. "Whoever comes through the door had better be someone we know."

The others merely nodded, even Luna's sunny disposition was replaced by a stone-cold look that promised only pain and misery to her target.

The next moment, the door rattled open, a horrible figure, cloaked, towered to the ceiling. Its face was hidden by the cloak, while a scaly, half-rotten hand protruded from the sleeve. As the creature drew a rattling breath, intense cold washed over them, and Harry blinked when he felt intense despair was over him, as if the creature was sucking the very heat out of his heart.

He heard screams and gunfire, something terrifying beyond his recognition, people screaming, people dying.

He could smell the blood, the putrid stench of decaying flesh, the acidic smell of killed people expelling waste products.

The darkness crept in on him, the light of his flashlight suddenly not enough to keep the horrid scene illuminated.

Shuffling his feet wide, his reactions and instincts took over.

_When you fear, it is dangerous. Danger keeps us sharp. However, fear itself does not._

He blinked, then squeezed his eyes.

One bullet and one spell raced through the half-meter of empty air separating Harry from the creature.

The spell seemed to be absorbed by the creature, however, the bullet was not, and the next moment, warmth seemed to return to the compartment as the horrible creature was on the floor, twisting and spiralling, screeching horribly.

"I intensely dislike fear," Harry replied, dispassionately walking over to the creature, levelling his gun and emptying the clip.

The shots rang like explosions through the silent train, as the screeching was abruptly cut off. Looking up, his eyes seemed to glow. "Are there any more who wish to challenge this?" he asked, while hiding his wand and changing the clip in his Glock.

Nobody answered.

"If there are no takers, at least tell me what it was I just killed. After a ghost, and a Basilisk, I think I have the right to know what else I added to my repertoire at Hogwarts."

"A dementor," a scruffy-looking gentlemen whispered, shuffling out of his compartment.

Harry looked down. "Somehow, I thought a dementor would be more impressive." He shrugged. "The Basilisk put up more of a fight. So did the ghost of Voldemort." Squeaks and shouts entered the air.

"Here," the man said, holding out a huge slab of chocolate. "It'll help."

Harry looked at the chocolate. "Hermione?"

The girl waved her wand. "It's clean."

"Luna?"

The blonde slipped past Hermione and grabbed the chocolate, while Harry kept his Glock up, and Hermione covered him with her wand. "Luna, what is a dementor doing here?"

"Looking for Sirius Black," she replied while breaking the chocolate into pieces.

Harry nodded. "Please convey my utmost displeasure to the Minister of Magic and advise him that I will dispose of any of such creatures coming within one hundred miles of me."

"Of course, Harry," Luna said, handing out tabs of chocolate. "Mmm... Honeyduke's."

"And you are?" Harry demanded of the chocolate-gentlemen. "Even I know better than to accept sweets from strange men."

The man let out a strange half-chuckle. "Remus Lupin, I'm your new Defence Professor..."

Harry looked at the man. "You failed," he told the man candidly, secretly enjoying how the man stiffed. "If you are our Professor, your duty was to prevent this... thing... from boarding the train. You have failed your duty. I do not respect those who fail their duty and do not make every effort to prevent such failures in the future. Which are you?"

"I can't just go against the Ministry of Magic..."

"Of course you can. Raise your wand, and repeat after me."

The man blinked, and lifted his wand. Harry nodded. "Avada..."

"I will NOT!" Lupin snarled, suddenly white as a ghost with outrage.

Harry shrugged. "A soldier obeys only another soldier, higher in rank. You can not be a soldier if you obey a politician who has no skills at war. Return. I shall think about how to deal with you later. And take this garbage with you. Luna, you can enter the compartment. Hermione, can you seal the door and window? I do not feel like being interrupted again."

Lupin just stood there, flabbergasted, as Luna saluted, and stepped inside, after which Harry entered, and Hermione closed the door. Lupin's jaw dropped even further when the door vanished, to be replaced by a smooth wall – and no matter how much he tried, the door did not reappear.

Finally, he shook his head. "Damned if that wasn't the ultimate combo between James and Sirius."

00000 year Three 00000

Harry was staring at the group before him, in a look that came as close to 'shock' as any of the MOSSAD members had ever seen him.

No less than a hundred students were aiming to join in, a solid seventy-five percent of the first years, twenty-five more second year students, and about fifty student scattered through years four to seven. Harry closed his mouth, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.

His mouth moved in what were presumably cuss-words, if only there were someone here who understood Japanese and Russian.

Finally drawing a deep breath and sighing heavily, he opened his eyes and stared at his new 'recruits'. His eyes finding a bunch of red, he homed in like a missile with an attitude problem.

For a moment, he thought it was Ron – only to come face-to-face with Ginny. Lifting an eyebrow, he waited for an explanation.

"I just want to be able to take care of myself," she replied, a faint blush on her cheeks.

He stared at her for close to thirty seconds, and the girl was started to fidget nervously before he nodded. "Fine." Turning around to walk back to his spot in front, he noticed a second splotch of red. Again, he homed in.

This time, he had the correct person before him.

"I... eh... I'm really sorry, Harry," Ron muttered.

Harry stared impassively at him.

"Listen, mate, I'm not going to back down this time. I'm really sorry, I've stayed away from you and your group for two years. I just want to get better! I want to get good grades! I want to go to year three this time! I _hate_ being held back a year!"

Harry still said nothing.

Everyone turned to look at Harry and Ron, as the redhead continued to splutter and plead. "I want to be able to protect my sister, okay!" Ron finally shouted.

Harry still said nothing, lifting an eyebrow. "I'll do anything!" Ron pleaded.

Harry dropped his eyebrow, remaining silent.

"Anything at all! You name it!"

Drawing a breath, Harry opened his mouth. The group collectively held their breaths, this would be the first time since First Year that Harry had spoken to Ron, and they weren't going to miss this.

"Jump off the Astronomy Tower. No parachutes, no spells. Make _splat_ on the ground, and I'll consider it."

Ron drew pale as the implications sank in, and stared with open mouth at Harry. "But... but..."

"Goodbye," Harry said, turning his back to the redhead, and walking back to the front. "Remove him," he told Neville, who just nodded, grabbed his wand, and stunned, bound, petrified, and levitated Ron, before depositing him – more or less nicely – outside of the Room of Requirement.

"This is going to be difficult," he told the assembled group, who were staring at Harry with a combination of fear and awe. "I will need to discuss this. You are dismissed, reconvene here in thirty minutes." He turned and walked through a door that wasn't there ten seconds earlier, motioning the MOSSAD members to follow him.

The door closed.

"This is going to be difficult to organize. There are too many to give individual training. We really will need to start organizing this if we are to make it a success. I will now hear your arguments, for and against, before making my decision on whether to allow their entrance, or how to organize training."

It was a very interesting thirty minutes, as Harry didn't allow debates to be held.

After the first time his wand struck the table with enough force to make it rattle, and declaring this was not a democracy, everyone stuck to the point – merely giving their personal opinions on whether to allow the group to enter, and on how to organize it if they were for.

In the end, Harry nodded. "I have made my decision," he announced, standing up. "Neville, reconvene them."

Neville took charge of a few MOSSAD members, and the third-year and five second-years had no problem getting the group back together.

"I have made my decision," Harry told the prospective recruits. They all held their breaths.

"I will allow you to enter the MOSSAD. HOWEVER!" He shouted over the hubbub that broke out, silencing everyone with a single word. "However," he went on, "as this means this is no longer a mere study-group, but an actual fighting force, we will need to reorganize certain activities. My general staff and I have completed education at a Military Academy. So have certain key members of last years' recruits. They know what is involved."

"As such, I am promoting myself to the rank of Captain, acting immediately. I am promoting my staff from Second Lieutenant to First Lieutenant, and I am promoting the Sergeant-Majors who completed Military Academy schooling to Second Lieutenant. After basic training is completed, you will be required to chose the division you wish to join. This one time only, I will allow last year's members to freely choose their division, and thus, their commanding officer. After this, transferring from one division to another will require you to come to me, formally request a transfer, and provide me with a damn good explanation why."

"One last thing – those interested in Military Academy education, and thus a promotion to officer, First Lieutenant Hermione Granger will provide you with the Room of requirement necessary the first two weekends of October. Also remember that this training last four years in subjective time, and that you will need to _work_ for your graduation. Dismissed!"

"Command Staff, with me," he said, as he left the small podium, leaving the Room of Requirement with the newly promoted First Lieutenants behind him. "We can't keep using the Room of Requirement as our command centre," he said as he walked the halls with the small ground walking around him. "I was thinking of redecorating the Chamber of Secrets. It is in a secret, undisclosed, and tactically sound position. Hermione, I want you to develop the spells necessary for this. Luna, you are Intelligence officer, I want you to help her, figure out who knows what and how to misdirect them."

"Oh, and will someone please figure out what the story is behind this Sirius Black bastard that escaped from prison? I _really_ dislike Dementors."

"We noticed," Hermione said with a faint smile on her face, Neville nodding, while the others merely smiled weakly. Hearing the death throes of a Dementor was almost as bad as being subjected to the creature itself.

00000 Fudge doesn't like how things are progressing 00000

"I demand his arrest immediately!" Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge shouted at the top of his lungs the moment two Aurors pushed the doors to the Great Hall open.

All conversation in the Great Hall during lunch time came to an immediate halt as everyone stared at the Minister.

"May I ask to whom you are referring, Cornelius?" Albus Dumbledore requested kindly, although his tell-tale twinkle was absent in his eyes.

Nor was there any question of doubt in anyone's mind as to whom the Minister was referring. Half of the Hall looked at Harry. The other half, mostly MOSSAD members, merely narrowed their eyes and started to, discretely, draw their wands or firearms they had on their person.

Such was the confidence he held in his fellow students that Harry, himself, merely edged his hands closer to his Glock and his wand, but not drawing them in any noticeable way. On either side of him, he saw Neville and Hermione, both was drawn wand and firearms crossed in their laps, the weapons hidden from view by the heavy table.

"Harry Potter, of course!" the Minister shouted, turning to the Boy-Who-Lived in question. "Up you go, boy!"

Harry lifted an eyebrow, righted himself, jerked his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. "On what charges?"

"Do you even need to ask!"

"Obviously, or I would not have asked," Harry replied coldly.

The half that was staring at Harry gulped, and turned to look at the Minister. That was the _exact_ same tone of voice he used when he was about to deliver a verbal smack-down of epic proportions...

"The slaughter of ten Ministry Dementors!" the Minister shouted.

Harry nodded. "I see. So you will be rewarding me with imprisonment rather than honour," Harry said. "I refuse to be arrested. Do your worst." He drew his wand, and pointed it at the ground. "I shall die on my feet, rather than live on my knees."

Fudge grew red, and blustered. "You... you'll fight my Aurors?"

Harry nodded once. "I refuse to recognise an inhumane government ran by a corrupt politician. It is my right – nay, my duty – to oppose any government that places so little value on human life. Kill me if you must, but know that you will make me more powerful than you can ever imagine should you chose to do so."

Fudge didn't understand half of what Harry was saying. "Arrest him! Use any force necessary!"

The four accompanying Aurors suddenly found themselves at wand-point of no less than a hundred students.

"Wha...?" Fudge muttered, confounded out of his mind.

"They recognise authentic leadership when they see it," Harry said, jumping on top of the table, before jumping down on the other side, facing Fudge.

"Why are you doing this!" Fudge finally shouted. "You and your little friends are going to get hurt!"

"Pain is a little price to pay for freedom," Harry said. "Even death is too small a price to pay for freedom. As to why I am doing this – because of the law."

"Law? What law?"

Harry waved his wand, momentarily making the Aurors and Fudge tense up. A book appeared before Harry, which he thumped down on the table. "Fourth Geneva Convention, Part One, Article Three, and I quote: Persons taking no active part in the hostilities, including members of armed forces who have laid down their arms and those placed hors de combat by sickness, wounds, detention, or any other cause, shall in all circumstances be treated humanely, without any adverse distinction founded on race, colour, religion or faith, sex, birth or wealth, or any other similar criteria.

To this end the following acts are and shall remain prohibited at any time and in any place whatsoever with respect to the above-mentioned persons: (a) violence to life and person, in particular murder of all kinds, mutilation, cruel treatment and torture." He looked at the Minister. "I would say that Dementors classify under 'Cruel treatment and torture'."

"Bah, humbug. Muggle nonsense," the Minister said. "I will not be held to such... idiocy!"

Harry eyes glittered hardly, and for a moment the Minister took a step back. Harry conjured a second book. "The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Article Five! _No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment!"_

"More Muggle nonsense!"

Harry thumped the book down with enough force to rattle the table and all the cutlery upon it. "These are the basic rights of every human being, and I will not have them sullied in my presence! Minister, this conversation is being recorded. I suggest you and I come to an agreement, and that you leave. You do not wish this to go to the press."

Fudge drew white as a sheet. "Now listen here, boy, I am the Minister of Magic..."

"You will be a _dead _Minister of Magic before your assassins have the time to let loose a single spell," Harry stated, back to his cold self, as if he had never lost his temper. "Again, I suggest we bargain, and this need never get out. Comply, or I will annihilate you the same way I helped annihilate the Russians in Afghanistan!"

Even Fudge had heard of Afghanistan. And even Fudge realized he wouldn't be in office long – should he survive, of course, once Harry started bombing the Ministry buildings.

"Fine. What do you want?"

"Good," Harry said, smiling faintly. "I had hoped we needn't come to this." He waved his wand, conjuring a small stack of parchment. "As it stands, you will sign this."

As Fudge grumbled and accepted the parchment, his eyes went wide s he read it. "This... you can not be serious!"

"Of course I am," Harry said. "It's quite simple. You will leave me alone, I will leave you alone, and you will keep the Dementors at least one hundred kilometres away from me. The next time I see one around Hogwarts, I won't just shoot it. I will start hunting them full-time, and eradicate its entire species. Last year I tracked a Basilisk, Dementors are easier to find."

"But... this will give you complete immunity!"

Harry shrugged. "No more or no less than you have. We've researched this quite thoroughly. My Head of Magical Intelligence knew you would come two days ago. It's her _job _to know and to predict what will happen. My Head of Magical Research and Development then studied the Wizarding Laws." _In the Room of Requirement, under time-dilation, _Harry din't add. _Let them think Hermione can become a lawyer in 48 hours. "_That is the end-result. Do you agree?"

"You threaten me, my health, and my position, and you expect me to sign this? That's not just blackmail, that's extortion!"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Yes, it is. However, as you so clearly stated, you don't adhere to Muggle nonsense, do you? There isn't a single Wizarding Law against the practice. I know. We checked."

Fudge made a keening noise, almost like a kicked puppy. "Fine. I'll sign."

Harry nodded. "And the recordings will go into my personal vaults. No need to let them get out now, do we, Minister?"

Fudge shuddered angrily. "And these others?"

"They'll keep their mouths shut, if they know what is good for them," Harry snapped angrily, stared over the Great Hall. Everybody just nodded. He gazed up to the Head Table. Dumbledore looked in shock, as were most of the teachers. They nodded dumbly.

Fudge signed, and left the Hall without a second word or glance. "Minister!"

The Minister stopped abruptly, and angrily turned around.

"Your copy," Harry said, signing the parchment, which then, dutifully, copied itself. The original vanished, along with the Geneva Convention and the Human Right Declaration. Fudge snapped the copy out of Harry's hand, turned, and left.

The Aurors snickered silently, giving Harry a covered thumbs-up, and walked out after their boss.

"You are one scary dude," Dean muttered as Harry walked around the table to retake his seat. "I swear, you could have killed them with your glare when Fudge dismissed your evidence..."

"I hate politics," Harry sat, sitting down. "But, this time, it worked out alright." He looked at Dean. "And never piss me off enough to make me look at you like that."

Dean nodded hurriedly, giving Dobby a run for his money. "Of course, wouldn't think of it!"

Harry smiled faintly. "Good."

00000 Dealing with Sirius Black 00000

All Sirius wanted was to see his godson, Harry.

As such, he was skulking around, hidden under his illegal animagus form, that of a big, black dog.

Even so, big, black dogs weren't exactly common at Hogwarts, and so, Sirius kept to the shadows, managing to avoid detection.

Until he was stunned from behind.

When he woke up, he found his muzzle tied shut, while his paws had been tied together, and a pole inserted in between them. As such, he found himself upside-down, dangling from said pole, as it was slung over the shoulders of two students.

Being upside-down, and looking straight at the backs of one of his captors, Sirius couldn't really see where they were going, only that it involved a heck of a lot of stairs.

"He's awake," Sirius heard a voice proclaim from behind him. A female voice. He tried to look around, but his position made that difficult, and all he managed to see where walls.

"Tough bastard," the male in front said. "No matter. He's harmless now."

"I wonder what the Captain has in store," the female from behind said. "He was quite adamant we capture it."

Sirius blinked. Captain? What Captain? Not for the first time, he thought about risking transformation back into his human form.

But then his thoughts came back to the same point – he was tied pretty effectively, and if he tried to transform, it was quite likely the ropes would burn into his flesh and possibly break his bones when he enlarged into a fully-grown man.

And so, Sirius stayed as a dog and listened to the conversation. "I don't really care. You know the Captain; he always has something good ins store for us."

"Lucky us," the female replied to her male counterpart, not a hint of sarcasm present. "I can hardly wait!"

They came to a stop when the stairs finally ended. "Lieutenants Longbottom and Granger, signing in," the male said to someone Sirius couldn't see.

"Yes, sir," an unknown voice replied from further up ahead. "And your... captive?"

"Present for the Captain," Longbottom replied. Sirius wanted to sigh. He had been captured by Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger – Harry's closest friends! Then, he sagged again. He still din't know who this Captain was.

Granted, he had spent most of his time hunting that rat, Pettigrew, and not enough time watching his godson, but still...

They were obviously waved through, as the small procession started up again.

Sirius heard the sounds of a large door opening by magic. When they stepped through, the first door closed, and only when it was closed, did the second door open.

Sirius had never seen such a construction before, but he could immediately realize the protective potential of it – someone could be captured inside.

They stepped into a large room, again, with very little of Sirius's view free, he couldn't make out much details before they stepped immediately into a smaller room to one side.

He was placed down in a corner, on his back, and allowed to drop sideways, his view finally unblocking so he could see properly.

His two captors stood before a desk, saluting. "We have captured the objective, Sir," Neville Longbottom said.

"Thank you, both," Harry said, returning the salute. "I knew I could count on you."

"May I ask what you are planning, Sir?" Hermione asked, curiously.

Harry smiled, and looked at the dog. "I've been trying for ages to get the Elves in this castle to serve dog. Unfortunately, they are unexpectedly squeamish about that. Luckily for us, we have this fine specimen running around, so I will be treating you and the Command Staff to a delicious dog meal tonight. I have a very good recipe that is simply to die for."

The dog's eyes went extremely wide, before a keening whine escaped through the tied-shut muzzle.

Harry looked straight at it. "It seems to be able to understand us," he said, and the dog started nodding its head up and down, Sirius frantically trying to convey that, a) yes, he could understand them, and b) he shouldn't be dinner!

Harry shrugged. "Never mind. Let's call it 'Dinner' – in honour of its new function." Another whine. "And if it doesn't stop whining, we'll promote it to 'Lunch'." The whine was louder, before abruptly cutting off.

Sirius made the biggest puppy-dog-eyes he could make, in the hope of coming across as a harmless stray mutt, and sparing him the pot.

"Yes, it looks like a very fine specimen indeed," Harry repeated himself. "I will see both of you tonight?"

"Yes, Sir," both replied at the same time.

"Good. Could you send in Lieutenant Lovegood? She had a report to make," Harry said, turning to some papers on his desk, one of which evidently held his appointment schedule. Honestly, who knew that running a shadow army took so much effort?

Luna entered thirty seconds later. "Lieutenant Lovegood reporting, Sir!" She said crisply, saluting. Harry returned it, and Luna handed him a manila folder, marked 'CO's eyes only'. The moment Harry's eyes made contact with it, the manilla folder turned black.

"Nice security spell," Harry complimented.

"Thank you, Sir. Hermione helped me with it!"

Opening the folder, he started leafing through the pages. "Can you give me the highlights? I'll read the details as needed," he asked.

Luna nodded. "Of course, Sir. We have confirmed that Sirius Black is your godfather."

Harry sat up straight. Sirius' doggy eyes went wide. "He is my what?"

"Your godfather. He was stipulated in your parents' will as being your primary magical guardian. Unfortunately, he was implicated with your parents' death, the death of his friend, Peter Pettigrew, and the killing of twelve muggles to get to said friend. He was imprisoned in Azkaban."

Harry's fist balled. "It figures."

"He is innocent, was sent there without a trial," Luna went on, making Harry slam his fist on the desk.

"_That _figures, too."

"He was not the Secret Keeper of your parents' Fidelius Charm. That was Peter Pettigrew, a detail not known to the public, but confirmed to us by scanning the remain of Godric's Hollow. Sirius Black went after Pettigrew in the understanding that he was the traitor."

Harry nodded. "I see."

"Pettigrew survived the attack, faked his own death, and blew up the street, killing a dozen muggles. Sirius Black was found, laughing amid the rubble, obviously insane at that point."

"Understandably," Harry muttered. "Are these sources valid? Are we sure this is what happened?"

"Hermione's Past Sight spells have never failed before," Luna replied.

"I see," Harry muttered. "Fine. Let's find Sirius Black. If you find him, bring him here, so we can interrogate him ourselves if needed. No need to let an innocent man go back to Azkaban."

Luna nodded. "Very well, Sir."

"You will be here tonight? I'm making my world-renowned dog recipe."

Luna looked at the dog for the first time. "I had assumed it to be a new pet. Of course I will be here, Sir!"

"Dinner will keep me company until it's time to start cooking," Harry replied. "Thanks for the file."

"You're welcome, Sir." She saluted again, and left, leaving Harry to leaf through the file.

Sirius whined again, hoping to catch Harry's attention and hoping to be able to convince him to spare him.

"You're really hoping to become Lunch, rather than Dinner, aren't you?" Harry asked the dog without looking up.

Sirius fell silent again.

Finally, Harry closed the file, and looked at the dog. Waving his wand, the ropes fell away, and Sirius wasted no time in transforming back into a man.

"I'm a man! I'm sirius Black! Please don't eat me!"

Harry lifted an eyebrow, and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "Please have a seat, Mister Black."

Sirius blinked, and sat. "You don't look surprised to see me."

Harry smiled silently. "I know pretty much everything that goes on in this castle. Now, care to tell me why you, as an innocent man, are scouring around the castle dressed as a dog?"

"Well, I saw a picture of the Weasleys, and I noticed their rat – it was missing a finger," Sirius muttered, completely off his teawater with the strange response he was getting from his godson.

Harry frowned, looked at the file, leafed through it. "Pettigrew's finger was found. Same missing toe on the rat?"

Sirius nodded. "We became animagi together, your father, me, Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin."

"Our DADA teacher?" Harry asked, lifting an eyebrow. He tapped the M on his chest. "Lieutenant Lovegood, please get back in here."

Luna was back in less than ten seconds. She, too, seemed to take Sirius' appearance in stride.

"Pettigrew is missing a finger, as is you-know-who's pet rat. They became animagi together with my father. Remus Lupin is a werewolf, I'm guessing you three became animagi to help him out during his time of the month?"

Sirius stared at Harry, while Luna took everything in stride. "How did you... right, you know pretty much everything that goes on in this castle."

"You're learning, Mr Black."

"Now... why don't you look surprised? Or your friend here?" Sirius asked.

"This is not the first time I received this report, Mr Black," Harry said, closing his file. "In fact, I received this report almost a week ago. And the more I looked into you... the more I came to the understanding that you and your friends enjoyed a good prank."

Sirius stared at Harry.

"You've just been pranked, Sirius," Harry said, blankly.

"Let me get this straight. You stunned me, tied me up, brought me here – and I don't even want to know where 'here' is – and made me believe you were going to eat me?"

"Yes."

"Brilliant!" Sirius shouted, laughing in a strange half-barking way that was uniquely 'his', and that sounded very familiar to Harry for some reason. "That one has _got _to rank in the top ten of best pranks ever!"

"This is nothing compared to what we did to the Minister," Luna said with a faint smile.

Sirius turned to look at the blonde, before staring at Harry. "Did you prank the Minister?"

"More like extorted him," Harry aid with a faint smile. "I got him to say that he didn't care about people's rights, and other 'muggle nonsense' on recording, then threatened to expose him to the media unless he gave me what I wanted."

Sirius stared slack-jawed at Harry. "Which is?" he finally asked.

"Ministry-level immunity for me and everyone in my group," Harry replied. "Which means that I can kill someone, and more or less expect to et away with it – as long as I don't go around blasting people in broad daylight in front of witnesses." He rubbed his chin. "And even then I have a chance to get away with it, I suppose."

"That... That's brilliant," Sirius said in awe. "You've _got _to be the best godson I could want!"

Harry dipped his head. "I am glad you approve."

"Now... I'm still a wanted criminal, though... you wouldn't happen to know of a way to help your old godfather, would you?" Sirius asked, trying to make the puppy-eyes as a fully grown man.

Given his dishevelled appearance, it was less than successful.

"Unfortunately, I have no influence with the Ministry beyond the agreement I..." Harry trailed off, trying to find a decent euphemism.

"Extorted?" Luna suggested.

"I didn't want to use that word," Harry said with a look at her. The blonde shrugged her shoulders and ignored it. "Fine. The agreement I extorted out of them. I can only protect those within my organization."

Sirius shrank in on himself. "I'll ask Albus if he can..."

"Mister Black," Harry interrupted, speaking loudly, slowly, and clearly. "There is nothing I can do for you, as you are not a member of my organization."

Sirius blinked, the old Marauder's mind coming into play. "And how could I become a member of your organization?"

Harry smiled. "Hypothetically, one asks to join."

"Can I join?"

"Luna, please get Neville and Hermione in here."

Luna stood up, and returned thirty seconds later with both Hermione and Neville.

"We have a potential recruit," Harry said, motioning for Sirius. "Your recommendations?"

"His record is... interesting," Hermione said, rubbing her chin as she looked at him.

"A bit scrawny, but I think that can be worked up," Neville added.

"Apart from the no-trial and the phoney charges, his background is clean," Luna said.

Harry nodded. "Draw your wand," he told Sirius.

The man looked at the ground. "They snapped it."

"Hermione, can you build Sirius a new wand?" he asked.

"I'll look into it," Hermione said.

Harry nodded, then flipped over his wand, and held it out to Sirius. Immediately, the other drew their own wands, pointing loosely at the ground. "Use this."

Sirius noticed the looks he get from the other, and took the wand, holding it out before him. "You will now take an oath. Repeat after me..."

00000 Fudge, part two 00000

"He can't do this!" Fudge shouted as he stormed into the Great Hall, this time pushing the door open himself in his rage.

"Who can't do what, Cornelius?" Dumbledore asked, again, very well aware of just who had what to anger the Minister.

"You!" Fudge shouted, pointing at Harry. "You can't just let Black enter your organization and claim him innocent!"

Harry stood up, and handed a folder to Fudge. "I can, and I will. The man is innocent, never received a trial, and this is the proof. I expect you to drop the matter. Failure to comply will result in me sending this, and copies of this, to every wizarding newspaper, and magazine in the entire English-speaking world."

Fudge stared at the folder, opened, it, read the first page in it, and paled. "Never awarded trial... wasn't Secret Keeper for the Potters... memory evidence... magical residue..." Immediately, Fudge's political mind realized the trouble he was in. This was going to be a blame of epic proportions if it got out!

"I... will see what I can do..." Fudge muttered.

"Good man," Harry said, sitting down again. "Care to join us for lunch, Minister?"

"This dog recipe is indeed to die for, Harry," Neville added in.

Fudge turned green, shook his head, and stormed out of the Great Hall.

"I love tormenting that man," Harry muttered into the silence of the Great Hall.

00000 Closing up year three, tying loose ends 00000

Harry entered what used to be a girl's bathroom. Using some heavy exorcism spells, they'd gotten rid of the wailing ghost inside, and managed to secure the room as an entrance into the Mossad Command Centre. The door would only open to those who were registered to the magical alarm system – which in turn was tied directly into the Hogwarts Wards.

Hermione was a genius.

Walking to the large door that secured the entrance to what used to be the Chamber of Secrets, Harry drew his wand. "Captain Harry Potter," he told the door.

"Voice Print accepted," the Security System replied, triggering the door release.

It vanished into thin air, and Harry stepped through. Behind him, the door re-materialized. Shifting his bookbag higher onto his shoulders, Harry commenced the trek down the long, long, _long _staircase down into the antechamber of the Chamber of Secrets.

It was great for endurance building, running up and down these stairs, and Harry had taken to jogging up and down these stairs early in the morning, where he was unlikely to bump into anybody.

Stair-climbing was better than just running.

Finally, he emerged at the Chamber Level, and approached a small desk, behind which were seated two MOSSAD members. "Captain Potter, signing in," Harry told them, signing his name to the register. He was waved through immediately.

Being a member of the upper echelon had its privileges.

Entering the outer door to the airlock that separated the Command and Control centre from the outside air, Harry came to a stop in the small room, and waited for the outer door to cycle closed before being subjected to an intense, if only momentary, blast of hot air as the Life Support Spells switched him from outside to inside air.

What use was a defensible position if any mere biological or chemical attack could get in through the air, after all.

He stepped through the cycling inner door, and surveyed the Status Wall for a few moments, before nodding to himself and sitting down at one of the auxiliary stations, next to his godfather, Sirius Black.

"Your freedom," Harry said, drawing some papers out of his backpack.

"I still can't believe you got me off so easily, Harry," Sirius said, quietly reading his release papers, obviously unable to voice his emotions.

Harry just nodded. "I am good at what I do, and have been smart enough to surround myself with people who are good at what _they _do. None of this would be possible without Hermione Granger's genius, Luna Lovegood's contacts, Neville Longbottom's operational expertise, or Susan Bones' medical abilities. Nor could we do without Dobby and the House-Elf auxiliary, I suppose, for they are the ones who really came through for us when they built this place according to Hermione's specifications."

Sirius just nodded, and stared up at the Status Wall. "Still... that's a mighty fine expansion on our old map, Harry."

"When the Weasley Twins brought it to my attention, Hermione made short work of disassembling the spells and charms, and expand upon them." The far wall was one gigantic representation of Hogwarts, floor-by-floor, filled with multi-coloured dots, and small name tags. "It is unfortunate that Pettigrew was already gone by the time we brought this online, or we might have been able to capture him."

Sirius just nodded, looking at the small screen embedded into the station they were sitting at. A small representation of the Status Wall was visible, and he tapped his own name.

_Sirius Black – age 34_

_Special abilities: Animagus, passive occlumency_

_Criminal record: suspected in Potter Massacre, cleared. Suspected in Pettigrew and muggle slaying, cleared. _

_Background: clean_

_Do you wish a full bio: Yes/No_

The system waited patiently for Sirius to tap either the Yes or No, or select to return to the main screen.

"I wish we had been able to tag him," Harry said. "Then we could have tracked him anywhere he went."

"Even then, there are wards, and other things he could do to hide himself," Sirius replied.

Harry shook his head. "Stand up, Sirius. Let me show you what I mean." Sirius, confused, stood up, and together, they walked to the front of the Command Centre, where Neville was doing a shift, keeping an eye on the Wall, along with one of the new First-Year recruits.

"Can you put on the global view?" Harry asked.

Neville nodded. "Coming right up, Sir." He entered a few commands into the runic keyboard before him, shifting the magic around. The Wall's view split vertically, shifting the Hogwarts view to the right, and putting a rotating earth-globe on the right.

"We have introduced a constellation of forty satellites into space. They can track anyplace on the globe, alike a muggle GPS system. Had we seen Pettigrew before he vanished, we would have been able to locate his magical core anywhere on the planet, no matter where he was hiding."

"That's impossible," Sirius muttered, staring t the globe, where a few scattered dots were present, only to disappear as the globe rotated.

"Hermione is a Genius – capital G. In three years, she has created new fields of magic that are fifty to a hundred years ahead of the Magical World. Everything the muggles can do using technology, Hermione can do using magic. Enchanting a big rock, then transporting it into space, does the same trick as launching a satellite does."

Sirius didn't understand any of the muggle references Harry was making, but he did understand the gist of it. "So, basically, you're the most powerful man in Britain."

Harry shook his head. "I am merely here to learn, not to wage war. If people leave me alone, I will leave them. I have no desire to use the power at my disposal, and without desire, there is no true strength, nor is there true power. One only becomes powerful when one has the desire to use the power at his disposal."

Harry nodded to Neville. "Thanks, Neville."

"You're welcome, harry," Neville replied with a small smile, replacing the world view by shifting the runes around on his keyboard.

Sirius turned to Harry. "You're saying there are forty pieces of enchanted rock in orbit?"

"They're more like boulders than mere rocks, but yes," Harry confirmed.

"How did you get them up there?"

"Transported them, of course," Harry replied.

"But... how? Portkey?" Sirius asked.

Harry looked at him, and shook his head sadly. "Transported them," Harry re-stated. "We can transport anything, anywhere, anytime. It was part of the enchanting matrix of the satellites. Of course, the first satellite could only be transported straight up from the Central Transportation Matrix, here in the Command Centre, but once it was there, we could expand out network from there. I think it took us five or six hours to transport all forty satellites into orbit."

"Hang on, harry. You're telling me you can transported something to the other side of the world? Anything? Anybody?"

Harry nodded, and tapped his badge. "Potter to Transportation. Please place me on the other side of Sirius Black. Just a small demonstration."

There was a two second silence. "Ready, sir."

"Activate."

Harry vanished into a column of sparkling magic, and Sirius jumped when that same column reappeared on his other side. "Holy-" the man started to curse, only to contain himself. "You can't Apparate at Hogwarts!"

"Then, by process of elimination, it's not Apparition, isn't it?" Harry asked, lifting an eyebrow, causing Sirius to bark out his trademarked laugh.


	9. Shuttle 6c Full Metal Magic part 3

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft six: Full Metal Magic**

Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: Full Metal Panic

Timeframe: AU, age 1+

Last updated: 30th November 2009

Author's note: Major time-line fiddling required for this one. The goal is to place Harry and Sousuke Sagara within two years of each other. Even thought Full Metal Panic never really gave a date for their timeline, the tech level suggest they are in the mind-2000's in some areas, and twenty years further down the line in others. As Harry Potter is stated to take place in the early 90's, but never really shows much technology, there shouldn't be too much of an issue fiddling the timeline to make the two coincide. Maybe I'll just declare the Harry Potter universe to be moved up a decade or two – I've seen other authors do this when they have the characters use DVDs rather than videotape...

00000 Year Four, we're getting closer to the end, folks! 00000

Harry cursed slightly when the triwizard tournament was announced, and the Bulgarian and French delegations entered the school. "Step up security," Harry whispered to Neville, before turning to Luna. "try and find out everything you can about them. The security risks are astronomical. Sometimes I wish I knew what the old man was thinking."

The others quietly agreed with him, while Neville and Luna were already planning their new tactics.

"You have to admit their entrance was interesting, though," Susan said.

Hermione shrugged. "Pf," she scoffed. "We've got a Transporter. Transportation anywhere in the world, instantaneously, trumps a surface boat travelling underwater, or a carriage pulled by flying horses."

"Besides," Neville said, "we ride carriages drawn by flying horses every year. Thestrals, remember?"

"Some of us haven't seen death," Susan replied. "So not all of us can see them."

"Trust me, you're not missing anything," Hermione muttered. She glanced at Harry. "I want to take back the thanks I gave you for killing that troll. It's thanks to that I can see those horrid creatures."

"How can you say that, Hermione?" Luna asked, innocently. "They are wonderful creatures! And they are a lot smarter than people give them credit for."

Harry just shrugged. Any creature that wasn't out to harm him, eat him, or harm him and then eat him, was a good creature in his book.

"We need to keep an eye on those newcomers," Harry said. "I do not like the look on some of them."

The conversation turned away from threstrals and back to the topic at hand, and the welcoming feast dragged along at its usual, quiet pace.

00000 Triwizard Tournament woes 00000

Harry massaged his temples. Again, he had to deal with dozens of new recruits – some of them even from Slytherin – and again, he needed to reorganize the MOSSAD.

Each and every year. He was getting tired of it. If this went on, he'd retire a general by age seventeen.

Looking at his breakfast, he frowned while massaging his throbbing temples, trying to figure out how to slot the new recruits into the organisation – or rather, what to do with last year's recruits, so he had room to take on the new ones?

Not to mention that they all needed to be trained, too. It wasn't enough to put them through boot camp and then let them go – the organisation's main purpose was still to make everybody as good as they could be – and that included keeping up their training, intensifying it with each and every year that passed, almost like the school system itself. Only more difficult, more strenuous, and _on top _of the regular schooling, of course.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry blinked. Maybe that was an idea. He'd have to ask Hermione if she could figure out some kind of advanced lesson plan...

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry blinked, looked up, saw the Headmaster waving a piece of parchment. Momentarily, he was stumped as to why the Headmaster needed him.

Then he remember that they were drawing names from the Goblet of Fire this morning. He glanced at Neville. "Who do we have already?"

Neville looked pale. "Cedric for Hogwarts, Fleur Delacour for Beauxbatons, and Viktor Krum for Durmstrang..."

"Then what do they need _me _for?" Harry asked.

"Because your name came out of the Goblet as well, sir?" Neville asked, looking at him.

Realization hit like a falling anvil.

They hadn't.

He looked at the Headmaster as he stood up.

Marching to the front of the Hall, he snapped at attention. "Fourth Year Student Harry Potter reporting for duty, _Sir!" _

Dumbledore blinked three times. It had been quite a while since he had been subjected to this tone of voice, and he wasn't particularly enjoying the recurrence.

"You've been selected as a fourth candidate, Harry. Please join the other champions..."

"Sir, I will not, _Sir_!" Harry barked in his best bootcamp voice.

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore asked.

"I did not enter my name into the Goblet, _Sir_! Therefore, I can not have been selected, _Sir_! This must be a trick, _Sir_!" The Great Hall, including the foreign guests, gasped as the loud voice with which Harry proclaimed his innocence.

"I have here a parchment with your name and magical signature on it, Harry."

"Sir, request permission to see the paper, _Sir!"_

Dumbledore handed over the parchment. "This is from last week's Defence against the Dark Arts assignment, _Sir! _This is fraudulent, _Sir! _I refuse to participate, _Sir!"_

"I'm sorry, Harry, but this is a binding magical contract. The Goblet has already extinguished. We can not relight it."

Harry turned on his heel. "First Lieutenant Granger, I am in need of a second person for administrative release over the Security Wards."

Hermione stood up, marched over to harry, and formally saluted him. "Yes, Sir."

"Hogwarts, this is Captain potter, security level omega, voice print seven-three-nine-alpha, confirm."

To everyone's surprise, a voice boomed across the Great Hall. _Confirmed._

"Hogwarts, this is First Lieutenant Granger. Security level omega. Voice print two-two-nine-four-bravo, confirm."

Again, the female voice replied. _Confirmed._

"Hogwarts, release administrative lockout on Security Wards, transfer main view from Command and Control to Great Hall," Harry barked.

_Release of Administrative lockout on Security Wards requires confirmation. Does First Lieutenant Hermione Granger confirm the command?_

"Hogwarts, I confirm the request."

_Confirmed. Releasing administrative lockout, and transferring Main View to Hogwarts Great Hall._

The wall behind the Head table blurred and shifted, turning into the main overview of Hogwarts. "Hogwarts, search Security Memory, time index, last 48 hours. Who added parchment to the Goblet of Fire."

_Processing, _the voice replied. _Processing complete. Query results in a total of one hundred forty-eight records matching specified criteria. _The main view shifted, to be replaced by one hundred forty-eight tiny pictures, each one accompanied by text that was too small to read.

"Hogwarts," Hermione then said, "Proceed for heuristic analysis. Are there records outside of normal parameters?"

_Processing_. _One record falls outside of heuristic parameters. Record: Barty Crouch, Jr, under polyjuice in form of Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. Record withheld due to professor status, instead of student status. _

"MOSSAD. Search and capture," Harry snapped. "Use of deadly force is authorized. Potter to Transportation."

_Transportation here, Sir._

"I am authorizing the release of four dozen AK-47s. Transport directly to free space in Great Hall."

Two seconds silence. _Yes, sir. One moment, Sir. _The voice was shaking quite a bit. _Weapons and ammunition ready for transport, Sir._

"Activate." As the Great Hall started to fill with crates full of firearms, he turned back to Dumbledore. "We have found our culprit. I will not participate."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but even if it was fraud, the contract is magically binding. You will have to compete – the Goblet of Fire itself will force you."

"Potter to Transportation."

_Transportation, Sir... _the voice was shaking again.

He looked at Hermione. "Hermione, do you think half a pound of Semtex will get rid of that thing?"

"It's ancient, I might go for a full pound if I were you," she suggested.

"HARRY POTTER!" the Headmaster shouted. "I will _not _let you destroy the Goblet of Fire!"

Even so, a full pound of Semtex materialized on the floor in front of Harry, who picked it up. "And a detonator, please," he told the still open communications link. His wish was granted without verbal comment. "How will you stop me, Sir?"

"You can _not _destroy an ancient magical artefact. Even with all of your gained power, you will not be protected." At that moment, four MOSSAD members re-entered the Great Hall, carrying between them, the trussed up, squirming form of 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

"His flask was filled with polyjuice, Sir. We took it from him. He will be transforming back soon," Neville reported, saluting Harry.

Harry looked at the trussed up man. "Tell me, Lieutenant, was it because of the flask that he has a broken nose, and two black eyes?"

"Those he got because he resisted, Sir. I am afraid we had to pry the flask from his 'cold, dead, fingers', his quote," Neville replied calmly, while Harry looked at the fingers of the right hand. They were oddly coloured, shaped, and bent.

"Good work, Lieutenant." He looked at Hermione. "We won't need to Main View anymore. Can you transfer it back?"

Hermione nodded, and started issuing commands to Hogwarts, while Harry turned to Dumbledore. "If you can not break my 'contract', and you will not let me destroy the Goblet, what other options are there?"

"You must compete."

"Then I suggest three sets of chess to settle the tournament. According to the research done by my poeple, there have been fatalities during this tournament in the past. I have no desire to be added to the list."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but the tasks have already been selected before the Goblet was lit. It is part of the ritual to start a Tournament that the tasks be pre-known to the Headmasters of the institutes."

"Then how come I was added, _Sir!"_

Before them, the man formerly known as Moody started to transform. "It seems Mr Crouch used a _confundus _charm to confound the Gobelt into thinking there was a fourth school, then entered you as its only student."

"I'm still voting for blowing it up," Harry said.

"I can not let you do that."

"And what are the consequences of me turning my back and refusing to participate?"

"Complete loss of your magic," Dumbledore replied.

"Luna. Hermione. Research everything you can about this, and find out if the old man is telling the truth. If you find a loophole, I intend to use it. It seems I have no choice." He looked at Dumbledore. "I will compete. And I will kill before I am killed. I was forced into this, I will fight for my life."

Dumbledore went pale. "But..."

"If you do not wish me to compete, tell me how to get out of this now. Otherwise, the blood of the dead and dying will be on your hands."

"There is no way..." Dumbledore muttered.

Harry dipped his head. "Very well. Shall I join the others, then?"

"No fighting outside the tournament!" Dumbledore shouted after Harry as the boy started to walk to the side-room.

"I will not be fighting. Fighting implies an honest chance, a chance I was denied," Harry said calmly, and walked to where the three other champions and their teachers were standing, gaping at him. They had left the little side-room because of all the commotions, and all of them were glad they had done so.

"Sir, I hope you do not include me under that promise?" Cedric asked, formally saluting Harry.

Harry easily returned it. "As long as you do not plan on hurting or killing me, Cedric," Harry said.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Sir."

"Then no, you are not covered by the promise of lethal force," Harry said, and motioned to the door. "Shall we?"

Cedric nodded, and stepped aside to let Harry pass.

The entire conversation, and Cedric's act to let Harry pass first, was not lost on the others.

00000 Fallout 00000

Harry resisted the urge to massage his temples, and stared at the people in front of him.

"This is a student organisation," he said, "for _Hogwarts _students."

"Ve know," Fleur replied primly.

Harry shook his head. "Let me rephrase that. We're a student organisation that forces people through the hardest physical and magical training we can come up with."

"Ve know zat, too," Fleur's answer was, a faint smile on the Veela's lips. Harry blinked, and shook off the drool-inducing Veela Allure. If he could stand up to Mirrors of Erised, he could stand up to some Veela Charm, dammit. His elbow smacked into Neville's side – the boy had not been as fortunate as Harry himself had been. Neither were most of the other boys present.

"And you _still _want to join? Even though you're not from Hogwarts? And please put that Allura away. It's not having any effect on me, and it's only getting the male population of the MOSSAD into trouble with their significant others."

"Sorry," Fleur muttered, the Allure slipping away, causing the other to blink and wake up. "And yes."

Harry looked at the assembled group, a combination of over half of the Beaubatons students and more than seventy-five percent of the Durmstrang students. They all nodded.

"I'm sorry, but this is for Hogwarts students only," Harry flatly denied their request. He didn't need the headache!

"You haf allowed ze House-Elves to join," Fleur said.

Harry frowned. Where did she learn _that_? He glanced at Hermione, who looked totally innocent. He then glanced at Neville. He, too, looked innocent enough.

Looking at the other MOSSAd members there, he coul meet everyone's eyes – nobody looked guilty. "How did you find _that _out?" he demanded.

Fleur's grin widened. "Az a competitor to the Triwizard tournament, I zould not zay, ezpecially if you will turn me away."

"And unofficially?" Harry asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I ask ze House-Elves, of courze."

Harry shook his head. It became time he talked 'security' with Dobby. "this will make things difficult," he promised them. "After all, you will be leaving at the end of the school year."

Fleur shrugged. "Ve can be your foreign legion," she said with a faint chuckle.

Harry looked intently at her. "Does that mean you're claiming refuge in Britain?"

"Zust with you," Fleur denied. "Afzer all, you hav immunity from ze Ministry of Magique."

"I don't have the resources to let you stay here," Harry said.

"Ve don't need to ztay, only be allowed to train with you."

Harry sighed. "This will come back and bite me. I just know it," he muttered. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. Go join the other recruits. Tomorrow, basic training starts at the Room of requirement, on the seventh floor. We'll make sure we have enough patches and badges by then. Dismissed."

To his surprise, Fleur actually gave a perfectly serviceable salute, as did the other foreign applicants. Harry returned it easily, and the foreign student trooped out.

Leaving Harry to rub his temples, and request Susan's location. Maybe she had some more headache potions.

00000 First Task 00000

Harry leaned back in the extremely comfortable chair in his 'study' attached to the Command Centre, deep underneath the Hogwarts Lake. The chair was deeply padded, covered with fine leather, and had more charms on it than the Headmaster's chair in his office.

Closing his eyes, Harry silently thanked the Room of Requirement for easily-duplicated items.

Someone knocked on his door.

Sighing, Harry righted himself, the chair supporting him as he went from a leaned-back to an upright position.

Seriously, it almost felt as if he were sitting on air.

"Enter," he said, doing his best to sound as if he had been busy just now, and not relaxing for a few moments.

"Sir," Hermione said, saluting him as she stopped before his desk.

"Captain," Harry replied, returning her salute. She smiled momentarily, still not used to her new rank.

After all, now that the MOSSAD was not only local, but _international_, Harry had to give people promotions to deal with it.

He himself was a Major.

He hardly felt like a 'Lieutenant', let alone a 'First Lieutenant', or a Captain – let alone a Major! And then there was the while Triwizard Tournament deal. At least last year, he'd had enough time in the Room of requirement to go through Staff and Command schooling in order to at least give the impression of earning his rank. But now there was no time for War College – he was he to justify to himself his new rank? Just because two international brigades had added problems to his pile?

"I have a few presents for you, Sir," Hermione said, smiling faintly, as she put a cardboard box on his desk, about the size of a shoebox.

"Beware Magical R&D personnel, bearing gifts," Harry joked. Hermione smirked at him.

"I'm glad to see my reputation precedes me," she said, glad that Harry had chosen to go the 'informal' route, and making a small joke, as cliché as it may have been.

She opened the box, and pulled out a vial. "Please drink this. It's a permanent Veela Allure blocker. Susan authorized its dispersal this morning."

Harry looked at the vial, unstoppered it, and gave it a sniff. He sighed, and looked at her.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't get it to taste like anything else," Hermione said with a not particularly apologetic shrug.

Shrugging, Harry threw it back.

It tasted exactly as it smelled – like rat being left to decompose in the desert for two days.

For a moment, he regretted knowing what decomposing rat tasted like, but shook the thought away immediately. "I doubt you brought a shoebox solely for that potion," he said.

Nodding, she pulled a smaller, this time wooden, box from her container. Next, she took a small booklet.

The wooden box was black, engraved with golden runes, and it made Harry frown. There was not a single joint, nor obvious way of opening the box, and it looked as if it were made from a single solid piece of wood.

If only the golden runes weren't glowing.

He shifted his gaze to the black booklet. That, at least, he recognized somewhat. The blackened pages were the result of standard high-end encryption and protection wards employed by the MOSSAD.

He looked up at Hermione, waiting for an explanation.

"Harry," she finally said, fidgeting like mad. "Harry."

He blinked. "Hermione?"

"Please promise me something."

He looked at the box, the booklet, and back to her. "If you told me what you want me to promise, I might," he answered cautiously.

She drew a breath, and fidgeted worse. "That is the end-result in research I conducted on elemental casting. The results are... not what I expected. I refuse to research that area further, and I will quit if you order me to." She drew a breath. "The resulting spells and descriptions are in the booklet. In that box is the special wand that accompanies those spells. They will burn out your normal wand."

Harry whistled, despite himself. "That bad?"

Hermione sighed. "Now I know how Oppenheimer felt. Those spells are potentially magic's equivalent of nuclear weapons."

Harry blinked, and looked at the book and the box. "You're kidding."

Hermione shook her head. "They have the mental component. They can be tuned down from anything like unbreakable gravity-based manacles, for example, all the way up to 'level that city'. I want you to promise me not to use those spells unless you have no other option."

Harry looked at the items before him. "I, Harry James Potter, swear to Hermione Granger that I will not use these weapons as long as other options exist to achieve the target required."

Hermione sighed, and fell down in the chair in front of Harry's chair. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry said with a faint smile. "Now, care to explain these?"

"All the info is in the booklet," Hermione said. "But the rundown – elemental casting requires an element, fire, water, air, earth, metal, wood, light, and shadow. Those two spells have their element as 'Magic'."

Harry frowned slightly. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Those spells will _always _work, under _any _conditions. But, Magic is a lot stronger than any of the other elements, as magic isn't being diluted. The other spells use the magic of the elements they represent, but this taps into magic itself. In theory, the entire reserve of magic of the planet Earth. You are the only one I know of that has the mental fortitude to keep your thoughts clear and precise enough _not _to tap that much and crack the planet in half."

"I can see why you are worried," Harry said, looking at the booklet. "But I have to ask. Is there a reason why you are giving these to me on this day?"

"I know it's a bit suspicious, with the First Task being tomorrow, but I figured that, if there is one thing that might pose a challenge to you, it would be a dragon. And yes, I am away that it is strictly speaking an ungentlemanly thing to do, give you these, while Fleur, Viktor, and Cedric have to make due without them."

"I already have aw ay of winning," Harry said. "Without hurting the dragon." He rubbed his chin. "But this might make a fin fall-back weapon. One never knows, and one should always plan for the unimaginable to happen."

Hermione nodded, and stood. "I'm going to help Susan hand out the anti-Veela potions. Fleur will be put out that she can't charm anyone here again."

"She can be as put out as she wants. She's been too exhausted to use it this last week in any case," Harry said with a faint grin.

"I noticed. Was it necessarily to put her through punishment drills for hours each day?"

"Actions have consequences, and now she'll think twice about trying to charm my second in command. Or any of the male members of the MOSSAD," Harry replied levelly. "I don't mind her using her abilities on enemies, but they should not be used against allies. I think she learned her lesson."

Hermione bit back her giggle. "I think she did."

The next day, Harry walked into the arena, stared at the huge Hungarian Horntail. He blinked.

That thing was a fair bit larger than anything he had ever seen – and that included tanks, and Arm Slaves.

In fact, that dragon could practically compete with a Navy Destroyer.

He had heard of the attempts made by the other candidates, and knew that some magic was successful against their dragons.

Having read Luna's reports – as they all had – he knew that his Hungarian Horntail was a lot more powerful, faster, stronger, had hotter fire, and was immune to most magic.

He wouldn't be able to charm it like Fleur had in any case, and Viktor's Conjunctivitis Curse wouldn't work on this beast.

Luckily, he had other options.

He tapped his badge. "Potter to Transportation."

_Transportation here, Sir._

"Please get me that golden egg."

_Activating, Sir._

He held out his hands, and the golden Egg in question appeared in them. Lifting an eyebrow, he hefted the Egg above his head, to the deafening roar... of silence.

"Foul!" Karkaroff snarled. "I call foul! He did not retrieve the egg in a legal manner!"

Madam Maxine seemed to ponder this, before turning to Dumbledore and saying something while nodding empathically. It seemed she agreed with the Durmstrang Headmaster. Harry scowled.

"Mister Potter, you used outside held to retrieve the egg, I am afraid that we must disqualify you for this task," Dumbledore said over the hubbub of the crowd.

Harry frowned. Strictly speaking, he _had _used outside help. "If I put it back, do I get another chance? I did not realize my method was illegal."

The three headmasters debated this, and Karkaroff made an angry and disgusted motion.

"Just this once, Mister Potter!"

"Thank you," Harry said, tapping his badge and telling Transportation to put the egg back. The crowd muttered when the egg vanished.

By now, the Horntail was quite agitated. It had just seen this puny human, holding one of her eggs, then vanish it! The Horntail didn't know how the human got hold of its egg, but the destruction of it would cost him dearly!

Shooting fire, it forced Harry to dance around, while the dragon acted like a giant flamethrower, and tracked across the battlefield, flames shooting from its mouth after Harry, who raced across the field in a desperate attempt to stay ahead.

As he ran, he fell into an easy and well-established pattern of running, one he had ingrained in his very muscle-fibres since he was seven years old.

Drawing his wand, he started casting spells. As expected, his stunners and binding spells slid right off. The higher-class stuff, the things Krum had used, were just as useless, the dragon's stronger hide protecting it from just about a ll magic Harry could cast.

Grunting, he showed his wand in its pocket, and draw an AK-47 from a magically expanded pocket in his robes.

The heavy weapon was shouldered in no time, and Harry ground to a halt as he drew a bead on the dragon.

It had run out of breath, and was now 're-arming' itself.

The steady staccato of the AK on full automatic filled the arena, and to his disappointment, Harry could see the bullets flattening on the dragon's hide.

Cursing fluidly in both Afghan and Russian, he tossed the AK aside. It was too heavy and cumbersome to keep running with it, and it was useless anyway. He made a run fo it, just as the dragon's fire washed over his previous position, baking the ground to a crisp and melting the weapon he had dropped.

Harry's eyes opened far and wide. This was _worse _than any Russian flamethrower!

Cursing and running and rolling over the ground to various covering positions, harry debated on his next course of action.

When the dragon stopped to gulp in another huge breath of air, harry jumped up from behind some rocks he had been hiding behind, and stuffed his hand deep into his 'backup' pocket.

Withdrawing a metal tube, he pulled it open, flipped up the sight, and aimed, pressing the button with practiced ease.

The Light-Anti-Tank rocket bore through the air. With no electronic guidance thanks to Hogwart's magical interference, the rocket flew in a straight line, its electronics disrupted and frozen by the magically-tinted air.

Unfortunately, Harry was only fourteen. Well trained, but still, only fourteen. As he pressed the trigger, the stress of his body had made itself known, and he had moved. The LAW would move past the dragon on its far left.

The Horntail never missed.

It didn't miss this time, either, and it's monstrous jaw flashed to the side, grabbing the rocket out of thin air.

It detonated with enough force to force Harry back, and for a moment, he was glad that, even though the guidance had failed, the explosives and the trigger hadn't.

When the smoke cleared, Harry blinked owlishly, as before him, emerging from the smoke, was a sighed, _extremely _piss-off dragon.

"Crap. I pissed it off," he said, just loud enough to be picked up by the voice-enhancement charms on the Arena.

Uncomfortable twittering came from the crowd, as they realized they could very well be seeing Harry Potter's last fight.

"Hermione, forgive me," he muttered, unaware of the twittering or the fact that his voice was on pick-ups and everybody could hear him.

Drawing the black wand that dangled from his right hip, he pointed it at the dragon, which was now growling, and yanking on its chain, as if wanting to tear him to pieces with its bare claws, rather than roasting him from afar.

_The first spell will destabilize the laws of physics, basically enabling you to manipulate the physical world on a fundamental level, if required. For example, it will allow you to use gravity itself as a weapon, throwing gravity-based weapons, or using gravity-based bindings upon your target. Of course, gravity-based binds can also crush upon necessity. _

Harry didn't want to hurt this dragon. It was not his enemy. He only needed the golden egg.

It was get the egg, or quit, and his own honour and ego would not allow him to quit. It really was the only thing left for him, the only option of achieving his objectives.

"Darker than darkness, emerging from the abyss," harry said, his mental state immediately flooding by an immense sense of utter darkness as he focused on his target. Only the dragon remained clear before his eyes, only the dragon retained any sort of shape and colour. No longer could he see the arena, the standards, or all the people staring at him.

Reaching out, his magic called for the magic of the world, shaping and bending it like Harry had envisioned.

Deep within the Earth's pool of Magic, Harry's spell was heard, its plight understood, and its request granted. The magic reached for him, working its ways through him, Doing what it had been asked.

Harry's voice distorted as the magic worked, sounding cold and metallic, almost robotic in nature – if only the clear and present undertone of pure, raw, magic wasn't plainly audible for all to see.

As the spell progressed, the magic pressed down around them, making the air thick and the ground vibrate. The crowd fell deathly silent, feeling the magic react to the cores within them, feeling the amount of magic Harry was calling up.

Harry's unblinking green eyes focused on the dragon as his voice distorted further, losing all human property and sound, a pure manifestation of the elemental forces he was calling up. "_The shadow cast by the light of science!"_

Banks of pure dark energy flung from his wand, wrapping themselves around the dragon, and only now did Harry understand why Hermione had been so afraid of these spells.

It was ridiculously easy to tear the dragon apiece, to rend it limb from limb, and spray its precious blood over this arena.

Grunting, he merely tossed the dragon aside with a single move of the blackened wand Hermione had given him, hearing it _thump _loudly as it fell against of the arena walls, badly damaging said wall but only delivering a minor bruise to the dragon's thick hide.

Blinking finally, he felt the magic leave him, and immediately, the pain hit.

It was as if his body was in a pressure cooker, as if his insides were at a hundred times the pressure of the outside air – it was as if his very body was being torn to pieces, cell by cell.

Exhaling, and inhaling, exhaling, and inhaling. Slowly his body's pain lessened, and Harry looked up, his sight finally restored.

The dragon lay where he had tossed it, on its back, trussed up like a calf at a rodeo, four legs hogtied together, its wings tied to its back. Slowly, he stepped to the nest, grabbed the golden egg, and walked off.

Left foot, right floor. Left foot, right foot.

He had to reach privacy before he could collapse.

He didn't even hear the three stunned tens he received from the judges.

00000 Next day 00000

Harry bit back the groan he could feel forming in his throat when he slowly blinked his eyes open.

Great. Hospital Wing.

He hated hospitals.

Slowly looking around, he was immediately set upon by Susan. "Good, you're awake," she said, sounding relieved. "Now Hermione can kill you."

Harry blinked, and frowned slightly. "Why?" he croaked, his voice breaking halfway through. Helping him up, Susan helped him drink half a glass of water. Harry wanted to push the girl away, there was no way he needed to be helped, but it seemed his body still had some after-shocks to work through.

Next time, he'd be better able to handle it, he was sure.

"Why? Because, from her ranting, I was able to make up the fact that you used a spell she did _not _approve of – and worse, did so where everybody could see it. And now your body and magic took a huge hit."

"Hence the waking up in hospital thing," Harry muttered. "And please tell Hermione that I could either use that spell, or end up as barbecue, and ask her what she would have preferred."

Susan put a few potions on his nightstand. "Take these, they'll make you feel a whole lot better. And you can tell Hermione yourself – I have no intention of being a relay between the two of you, and quite possibly get her ire transferred to me, away from its rightful target."

Harry smiled slightly. "Good call," he said, taking the first potion and drinking it down, before taking the second.

"Ugh," she muttered. "And you didn't even flinch."

Harry shrugged. "Bad youth. I remember far worse." The potions got to work immediately, as he started feeling better right away.

"I'll go alert Hermione and the staff members that you're awake."

"Thanks, Susan," Harry said, dropping his head back on the pillow. "We'll have a staff meeting this afternoon."

"If I release you."

"If I can sneak out, you mean," Harry said with a faint smile. "I know the procedure – you're only well enough to leave hospital if you can escape under your own power."

Susan blinked at that, then stared at him. "Where did you learn _that_?"

Harry smiled faintly. "Bad youth again. I've been hospitalized enough."

Susan shook her head. "It's no true, and you will not be doing any escaping."

"Is that a challenge?" Harry asked with a faint smile.

"No, a statement of fact."

"Bossy," Harry muttered.

"Extremely," Susan replied, obviously startling Harry who hadn't expected her to hear him. "And now, be a good boy and stay in bed before I'm forced to relieve you of command."

"You can't do that!"

"I'm your Chief Medical Officer, ain't I?" Susan asked with an impish smile. "According to the rules _you _made us learn in that Military academy, yes I can."

"I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass," Harry muttered, again hoping she didn't hear him.

"You can speak up, you know. I have better than average hearing, speaking quietly isn't going to save you from me."

Harry watched her leave, and shook his head. "Why is every doctor or nurse I know so stubborn?" he asked himself.

"Practice, training, and a stubbornness upgrade during medical school," Susan's voice replied from outside the room. "Now rest while I get the others ready for this afternoon's staff meeting."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry muttered.

"Good boy," susan's voice replied n the distance.

"Better than average my ass. That _must _be some kind of super-hearing," Harry decided. This time, there was no reply.

That afternoon, Harry gingerly lowered himself into _his _chair in _his _office, allowed to leave the medical wing only under strict orders not to do any strenuous physical activity in the next few days.

"It seems there are questions regarding my fight against the dragon yesterday," Harry said as he leaned back, taking some of the strain off his body.

"Yes, we do!" Hermione exploded, standing upright and waving her fist about, forcing Neville to lean back to avoid being hit. "I gave you those spells for emergencies! I did not give them to you to win some stupid tournament!"

"And just where did I say I used them to win this tournament?" Harry shot back, as calm as ever. Maybe it was the potions, or maybe it was the post-staring-death-in-the-eye glow, but he felt cool and calm, not at all put out by his third in command waving her fist and running bright red.

Was that even healthy?

"You used the spell to subdue the dragon in order to win!" Hermione screeched.

"I subdued the dragon in order to stop it from roasting me to a crisp, _Captain_," Harry replied, calmly, emphasizing her title to attempt to get her to calm down. He may be feeling cool, that did not mean he enjoyed being screamed at by _his own subordinates._

She jerked, and seemed to realize what she was doing. "My apologies, Sir. I thought you had killed yourself, and I'm afraid I let my temper get the better of me."

Harry waved it off. "We are all under considerable stress."

"You could have surrendered, yesterday."

Harry chuckled. "I'm not the surrendering type. I will surrender when my corpse is cooling, not before."

"And you could have used different spells," Hermione pressed on, accepting the point that Harry wasn't one to back away when his life was under threat. It wasn't who he was – he had only ever known to fight for all he was worth."

"Ah, yes, my strategy," Harry said, standing up. His legs twitched a bit, but didn't hurt. It was as if he had overdone it terribly with training yesterday and was now stiff as a board. Thankfully, no real pain. "Memory playback," he stated out loud, bringing the memory in question to the front of his mind.

The charms built into the office read the memory, and the walls vanished, to be replaced by Harry's point of view during the First Task. "I first attempted to Transport the egg, which was against the rules. As I placed it back, I would attempt the summoning charm next," Harry said, walking through the frozen memory. "However, the draong had other plans." He resumed the playback. The moment the egg vanished, the dragon's expression changed.

Harry froze the memory. "As you can see, the dragon clearly thought I had destroyed its egg. It was now after my life. Forget defending its nest, this was revenge on its part, clear and simple. As it put me under fire – a fire more intense than any Russian flamethrower I have ever been attacked with, I was forced to run for my life." The playback resumed, seeing Harry run and doge to avoid the steady stream of fire.

"As the heavy Hermione-class spells take time and effort, I was unable to use those during my run. Hence, I tried to use command charms and hexes I have learned during my four years at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, I am still only a fourth year, and I must shamefully admit I have been spending more time on physical fitness and Hermione's spells than on regular spells. Anyway, as you can see, none of the spells made a dent in the dragon."

He resumed memory playback. "As you can see, with ym magic effectively sealed by my constant need for action, I shifted to the AK-47 during a lull in the battle. Unfortunately, the AK proved as useless as the spells. I was forced to abandon it as it ran out of ammunition, and was effectively useless. The dragon melted the weapon down, proving once and for all that this was fire on a whole different level, and no flame-freezing charm would protect me."

Harry let the memory run, before freezing it at the next junction. "Having managed to keep ahead of the flames until it ran out of ammunition again, I switched to heavy ordinance, and used the Light Anti-Tank Weapon." The memory resumed for half a minute before pausing. "At this point, my heaviest weapon had only managed to anger the beast, and it was now ready to tear me apart with its bare claws. As it started yanking on its chains, I realized my time was running out. Those chains would never hold the dragon for long, and I realized I had one more shot."

"I decided to go for the one shot I knew would take it out. Granted, I could have tried a regular Hermione-class spell. There was no fire around, being broad daylight, and fire was the dragon's element anyway, so that was out. Earth could crush the dragon, but would take ten minutes to do so. Air was fast and agile, but had no really combat strength, and this time there was no thousand-year-old ambient air present to supercharge my spells. Water is over in the Great lake, which is too far away. I had no real metal with me to use, nor did I have wood. I could probably have cannibalized the stands, but I think people wouldn't forgive me for that one. As it was broad daylight, there were very little shadows I could use, and that left only light. A laser _might _be able to damage it, but it was doubtful the one shot I had would be enough to take it out. Having ascertained that this was my last and only shot, I decided to go for _that _spell."

Hermione stared at him with open mouth. "You came up with all that in those few seconds you were standing there?"

"Of course not," Harry said. "In battle, you do not think. If you think, you hesitate. If you hesitate, you are dead. You act on instinct, and more often than not, instinct will select the correct option. Only now do I realize why."

"But... but..."

"Yes, I used a weapon that could have had serious consequences. It did not. I managed it, contained it, and bent it to my will. I immobilized the dragon, harmed it very little, and retrieved the egg, which was my objective. You have the luxury of debating my actions after the fight. It is easy for you to analyse and criticize. I fought for my life, and I came out alive, my objective is complete, and I refuse to feel guilty about that." The memory vanished around them, bringing the room back into focus. "Perhaps we should have a simulation in the Room of requirement, and see how you fare? It would be a good exercise, I think. Strategic thinking on your feet."

Hermione swallowed. "I see your points, Harry, but I feel really uncomfortable with you using those spells."

Harry nodded. "I understand, but remember that my oath is still in effect. I will only use that spell when I feel it absolutely vital."

Hermione sat down, rather subdued. "Good," Harry said with a faint smile. "I'm glad we managed to alley the fear that I will crack the planet in half on a lark." Hermione looked up at him, and stuck out her tongue in a childish manner.

"It's been a while since I had tongue," Harry muttered, looking intently at her mouth.

Much to Harry's, and everybody else's, surprise, Dobby pulled a knife from somewhere. "Shall I cut it out for you, Sir? Do you have any good recipes? We've never cooked human tongue before."

Hermione drew white, and slapped both her hands in front of her mouth, looking pleadingly at Harry. "Not this time, Dobby. Thank you for the offer, though."

"Dobby is always being happy to serve Sir!" the elf said. "As staff meeting is over, Dobby be returning to kitchens!" With those words, the elf popped out.

"I knew there was a good reason why I invited Captain Dobby to sit in on the staff meetings," Harry said with a faint smirk. "He has a wicked sense of humour."

00000 Finally, crossover time 00000

Harry and his command staff were seated in the Great Hall, at their usual venue – the end of Gryffindor table.

They were left alone, a respectable distance separating them from the other students, making sure their conversations were neither interrupted or overheard.

Rank has its privileges, and ever since their most recent promotions, it had become even ore obvious.

"As you all my know," Dumbledore said, standing up. "The Yule Ball is fast approaching. A marvellous time for all of us to enjoy ourselves, and interact with our foreign guests. As is traditional, the champions and their partners will open the dance. The ball will be open to fourth years and above, all a younger student my be invited as a partner if you wish. I hope you will all enjoy yoursevles, and not embarrass Hogwarts. Too much."

A faint chuckle went through the hall, although Harry suddenly felt as if an elephant was sitting on his chest.

He had long since passed the 'girls are icky' stage – in fact, he never went through said stage thanks to a steady exposure to said girls – in various state of dress and undress.

After all, when you bled together and fought together, being naked together just didn't hold the same importance it usually did.

No, Harry's problem was more profound.

He just didn't have any 'special' girl he was interested in. Sure, there were some pretty witches at Hogwarts – and even more pretty ones at Beauxbatons, he admitted, but he wasn't one to chose a girl because of her looks.

No, Harry wanted a girl who could keep up with him, a girl who knew what war and fighting was like.

He sighed. But then again, he wasn't choosing a life partner here, so he might as well go for a vapid airhead and get this over with.

Looking out over the great hall, his blood ran cold. Girls had separated almost immediately, bunching together, giggling, squealing, laughing, girls.

For the first time since quite a while, Harry acutely felt the lacking of his social skills. He could, of course, approach any female within the MOSSAD and be reasonably assured of her partnership.

But, he asked himself, did he really want to make use of his position in such a way? It was considered abuse in any regular military if a superior officer got involved with a junior officer under his – or her, he supposed – command.

That meant, going for a girl not in the MOSSAD, which made things even worse – all the interesting ones were in the MOSSAD, and he'd rather go for round two with the Hungarian Horntail than spend an evening with a giggling bunch of hot air...

He massaged his temples.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Susan asked.

He nodded absent-mindedly. "I hate this stupid tournament."

"Afraid you won't get a date, Harry?" Hermione asked, lifting her eyebrow.

"Afraid that ll the interesting girls are in the MOSSAD, and it's just not done for a superior officer to use his position in such a manner – which leaves me with only the dregs of the castle to chose from."

"I've heard Daphne Greengrass broke up with Blaise a few weeks ago, maybe you could ask her?" Neville offered with a faint smile. "She's pretty enough, and from her results, we _know _she has a brain to match."

"Unfortunately," Hermione went on, "She's a Slytherin firmly on the pureblood side of things, so she might just say yes, then try to poison you."

Harry glared at his two... friends, he supposed. "Good friends you turn out to be," he muttered, standing up. "I'm going to my study. Try not to get us in any trouble while I'm gone, okay?" As Neville and Hermione looked affronted at him, he turned to leave, only to stop as a bright flash right in front of him drew his attention.

Stumbling back and into a fighting position, he startled half the MOSSAD into action, most of them were half out of their seats, wands drawn, before they realized that Harry was not in any danger, if the scroll he was holding was any indication.

"Is that the self-Transporting scroll you asked me to make?" Hermione asked as Harry unrolled it.

"Yes," he replied without paying attention to her. As his eyes scrolled down the text, they opened wider, and his face drained of blood.

"My brother is under attack. Neville, get your eople together. Hermione, get down to the command centre, man every station, and get the best operators in Transportation. Susan, there are no injuries yet, but best be prepared. Luna, I need you to find out all you can about this," he said, handing her the scroll. "There's no real info here, but you might be able to find something out. Dobby?"

The elf popped in, while Neville started getting his operations teams together. The Great Hall was buzzing, a nervous energy going through its students when they realized that something was going to happen – and people would be best to _let _it happen, before it turned very ugly, very fast.

"Yes, Sir?"

"My brother is under attack, I am taking Neville, four of his Operations teams, and Susan for medical support. I need you to prepare some basic foods, nothing rich or heavy? We have no information on hos long it's been since he's eaten. I also need you to prepare some VIP quarters for him."

Dobby saluted. "Dobby ask other elves to do, Sir. Dobby be sending some elves with Sir? Elves may be handy."

Harry thought for a few seconds, aware that Hermione had gotten her primary teams together and they were long gone, and that Susan had effortlessly gotten her medical crews together, but was standing by with some recently-teleported medical supplies in a shoulder bag. Neville had organized four three-man squads, the best squads they had – those with them since first year, and thus, the best trained. He had sent the others to secure the castle. "Yes, send us two elves. Ask them to stay invisible, my brother has very little introduction to the magical world, and it's not good to startle him."

Dobby nodded. "Dobby ask Winky to come along, and Dobby and Winky be staying unseen, Sir!"

"Potter to Granger, do you have the coordinates?"

_Yes, sir. The GPS coordinates are correct, and we have a remote eye on the location. It's remote, so we can only make out life-signs. I've secured transportation coordinates._

"Neville?"

"Ready, Sir."

"Susan?"

"Ready."

"Dobby?"

"Dobbe be being readiest, Sir."

"Hermione, hologram?"

A hologram appeared in the air before Harry. _I will be setting down you, Susan, and Neville on location alpha. It's covered by some boulders, and that's where I think your brother is. There are three life-signs there, and they appear pinned down. I will be sending the other teams to positions gamma, delta, and bravo, to suppress the life-signs pinning them down._

"Dobby?"

"Dobby and Winky be popping next to Sir, ready to help when needed, Sir!"

Harry nodded once again, and looked at his people. "Alright, let's go."

Dumbledore finally got over his shock of the rapid-movement orders and preparations, and realized they were about to leave the castle. "Mister..." his said, just as Harry, Neville, Susan, and a dozen of his students vanished into thin air. "... Potter," he muttered to thin air.

One moment, they were in the Great Hall.

The next moment, they were in the dark of night, huddled behind a large set of boulders, as bullets flew over their heads. "Brother?" Harry asked.

"I am uninjured," Sousuke Sagara replied levelly. "It's good to see you."

"Good to be seen," Harry muttered. "Potter to assault team. How are things?" he asked, immediately turning his attention to the battle at hand, ignoring the two women that were accompanying his brother. They were obviously VIPs under his protection, and not of consequence at the moment.

_Team one in position._

_Team two in position._

_Team three in position._

He glanced at the three students that were huddling behind the rock with them. Dean tapped his badge. "Team Four ready to provide cover and support for command crew, Sir."

Harry nodded. "Alright, people. Take 'em down."

Immediately, the sky lit up with spells being fired, and the steady racket of discharging firearms diminished as people were either taken out, or ducked behind cover.

"Surprise," harry muttered with a cold grin on his face. "Potter to Hogwarts. Tactical overview."

_Three non-magical life-signs next to you. There are four more non-magical life-signs approximately twenty meters in front of you that are unharmed. The other non-magical life-signs have been stunned or otherwise incapacitated._

Sousuke looked at Harry.

"Potter to Assault team. They're behind cover. Switch to Reductors and other heavy weaponry you have available," Harry said in response, before shooting his brother a grin and going back to his duty. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

He glanced to Neville, who looked back. They shared a nod, peaked over the rocks they were hiding behind, lifted their wands, and opened fire. Dean, getting the point, opened fire along with his team.

_Hogwarts to Potter. The last of the non-magical assailants has just been incapacitated._

Harry nodded. "Potter to Team. We got them people. Prepare for extraction. Potter to Transportation."

_Transportation here, Sir._

"Prepare to Transport myself, the Assault Team, and three non-magicals to Hogwart's alpha location."

Harry frowned when there didn't come an immediate confirmation. _I'm sorry, Sir, but there is interference that prohibits me from getting a lock, _the operator replied. _Something is generating a tremendous amount of electromagnetic interference that's interfering with the location charms, I can't get a good lock on you, let alone the non-magicals. I'm interfacing with central command._

_This is Central Command, _Hermione's voice took over immediately, showing she had already been in the circuit. _Harry, an object is travelling towards you, high velocity. It is what's creating the interference. Standard non-magical sensors do _not_ detect it. _

"Fantastic. Size?"

_Weight approximates 11 metric tons, height approximates 9 meters. Appearance, human._

Harry looked angrily at Sousuke. "There was no mention of an Arm Slave deployed to this operation."

_It just showed up, Sir. Contact, approximately twenty seconds._

"Potter to Assault Team. We have incoming Arm Slave. Hit it with everything you have, do _not _let it gain time to get its bearings._" _He turned to Sousuke. "Anything you want to tell me?"

Sousuke was silent for a few seconds. "Unfortunately, a lot of classified data prohibits me from commenting."

Harry nodded. "That's just great," he muttered. "Things just got worse."

"What do you mean, Sir?" Neville asked.

"'Classified' is just another term of saying 'pretty damn good', Captain. We're either dealing with something better trained than we are, better equipped than we are, or quite possibly both. Potter to Hogwarts, are you sure there are no alternative means to extracting us?"

_None at the moment, Sir, _Hermione replied, just as a big pile of _nothing _smashed into the battle scene, blurring immediately into visibility as it opened fire with a humongous gun.

The same moment it became visible, the air once more lit up with spells, which struck harmlessly against a an energy shield that appeared in mid-air between it and its assailants.

Harry grunted as he dumped power into his spells striking the giant human-analogue robot. "What the...?"

"Lambda Driver," Sousuke muttered, dejectedly. "So not even magic can get around it."

"What the HELL is a Lambda Driver?" Harry demanded as he and his people kept pouring magic on the robot, forcing it on the defensive as the robot started holding out his hands in what appeared to be a way to reinforce the shield.

"_The Lambda Driver is a flase axis repulsive field generator system that is capable of exerting mechanical force against space with no observable physical interaction. This is in direct violation of Newtonian Physics, in particular Newton's Third Law," _The blue-haired girl on Sousuke's right said, her voice sounding as if she were in a trance.

Harry shook his head. "Explain in plain Russian," he snapped, as always when a nerd was speaking Geek.

"Forcefields that block anything, and attacks that can not be stopped," Sousuke replied cooly. In plain Russian.

"Thank you," Harry said. "Potter to Team. That thing generates impossible shields. Hit it with everything you've got. If you want, here's your chance to try a Hermione-class spell." He severed the connection as Sousuke and his two VIPs looked at him as if asking _'Hermione-class spell'?_

Drawing in the mental picture he wanted, that of a giant bolt of black lightning, Harry shouted the Shadow Spell.

Shadows from all over the battlefield amassed at the tip of Harry's wand, before he cut loose with a continuous stream of black lightning against the forcefield protecting the robot, which was still struggling. As the bolt hit, the shield flared up, and the continuous stream _kept _it lit.

Harry's teeth grit together as he forced more and more power from the shadows into the spell against the robot, ignoring everything that was happening around him in order not to lose his concentration over the spell.

"Longbottom to Team. Harry won't last much longer! Hit it with _everything_!"

A few aborted Hermione-spells only served to light up the sky, while a few LAWs were fired, doing little more than flare before burning out against the massive force-shield around the robot.

The Pilot of the giant machine seemed to be getting the hang of things, as it once more made a grab for a weapon, dropping one of its hands in order to do so.

"That pilot doesn't know the capabilities of the Lamba Driver," Sousuke said. "He thinks he needs his hands to reinforce the shield, while it is merely the mind that is required."

Harry fell back behind the rocks, panting deeply. "That's just great. A newbie, and he's still kicking our ass," he muttered. "Nothing we do makes a dent." He ducked very low when one of the giant bullets tore a huge chunk out of the rocky barrier.

"I think, in this case, Hermione will forgive you, Harry," Neville said.

Harry grunted, and looked at Susan, on the other side of the rescued party. "I agree. We need the doomsday weapon."

Harry lifted an eyebrow.

"The child needs a name," Susan said.

Harry grumbled, and sheathed his wand.

"Looks like technology has finally trumped magic," Sousuke said at the sight.

Harry sighed, and drew the black wand Hermione had made for him. "This is going to hurt," he muttered under his breath. "As I keep telling you in our letters, brother..." He closed his eyes, and envision a bolt of energy that would annihilate the target.

"Deeper than darkness," Harry intoned ritualistically, feeling the power begin to grip him as he stood up from behind the barrier, totally ignoring his own safety. Already, the magic began to work on him, reaching for the power of Planet Earth, the world's well of magic. His voice distorted as he spoke on, "shot out from _despair," _the last word sounded mechanically now, as his eyes glazed over and the power took root within him, settling as a giant arrowhead before his wand.

This time, he would _not _rip his body to pieces. Feeling his mind establish the anchor that Hermione had taught him, the entire battlefield lit up.

Behind Harry, a humongous, triangular, runic array had established itself in a multitude of different primary colours, floating and flowing around and through each other, as if it were alive. All firing stopped, as both Harry's Assault Team, the trio of non-magicals, and the attacking robot, stared dumbly at Harry and the runic array.

Having established the spell, Harry reached for the trigger.

"_The lamenting fang of the sins of science!"_

The arrowhead detached itself from Harry's wand, blasting forward at enormous velocities, transforming in mid-flight to a pure ball of pure energy, before ploughing into the protective field of energy around the Arm Slave.

As the bolt struck, it deformed, from a bolt into a cloud, and it ripped through the shields after only a few moments of consternation. The resulting cloud flashed forward, ripping through the robot, catapulting it back, where it hit the ground with tremendous force, disintegrating totally under the might of the releasing and annihilating magic.

Harry breathed out, feeling his body tremble.

"Harry," Neville said, getting up to put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Do not," Harry bit out. "touch me." Neville jerked his hand back, understanding that it was pain, not anger, that was making his friend act. Drawing breath after breath, Harry looked at Sousuke, and managed, through gritted teeth, "As I said in our letters, brother. Magic always trumps technology."

Susan walked up to him. "Even if you have to tear yourself to pieces," she said disapprovingly. "In any case, you survived better this time. Drink this. It'll help boost your magical core so we can heal you faster."

Harry drank. Steam poured out of his ears at the ingesting of Pepper-up Potion. Steam which startled the trio of non-magicals. They had heard of 'steaming coming out of one's ears' as a saying, of course. They had never expected to see it in person.

"This will help heal your muscles," Susan said, holding out potion number two.

Harry drank.

"This will help strengthen your constitution."

Harry drank some more.

"And this will stabilize your blood-levels."

And Harry drank the last potion.

"_Area seems clear, Sir," _Seamus reported.

_Hogwarts concurs, Major. No further disturbances detected, although the air is now supercharged with magic. Thankfully – _that_ is something we can cut through. Preparing for Transportation. _

"Activate," Harry said, feeling the potions overcome the pain wracking his body.

They arrived at the site Harry had claimed was 'Hogwarts Alpha location', which had their backs to the Hogwarts lake, facing the imposing Hogwarts Castle.

Harry had asked for this location for a reason – both to show them where they would be staying, and to show his brother that security was well taken care of. Four students flanked the Hogwarts entry gate, and silhouettes could be seen on the towers.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Harry said after waving his wand to exempt the newcomers from the muggle-aversion charms.

"Incredible!" the blue-haired girl shouted.

"That it is," Harry agreed. "As it was built during medieval times, it is also quite well defended, and in a strategically strong position." He motioned subtly to the various cliffs, the lake, the Forbidden Forest, and the magical gates and boundaries. "Plus, the enemy would need to come with Wizards or Witches of their own, as without them, all they would see is the ruin you saw when you first arrived."

Sousuke was nodding. "Security is good," he replied levelly.

"How can you be thinking about security!" the blue-haired girl snapped at Sousuke. "This is a magical castle! They an't even SEE us, let alone ATTACK us! And how can you be so calm about this! You told us magic was rela half an hour ago, before you started writing on that weird vanishing piece of _parchment _of all things!"

"Pleas, Miss, I will explain everything once we have taken you to your new quarters. I'm sure this will go better with some hot food, drink, and a warm place," Harry said, in his most 'diplomatic' voice.

He _still _hated politics, but he was sure he'd need to exercise those skills even more – for he had yet to face Dumbledore.

"You'd better, mister," the girl muttered, crossing her arms. In the darkness, he noticed that the second girl merely tagged along, quietly, but kept an eye out for everything that was happening to and around them.

A chill ran down Harry's spine.

That second girl was the one to look out for. She was obviously the smarter one.

They emerged into the entry hall, and Harry directed them to where the Great Hall was. He was sure that Dumbledore, most of the teachers, and at least a dozen MOSSAD members were still there.

"Torches? You people still use torches?" the blue-haired girl asked, astonished.

"Electricity does not work around this much magic. As I said to my brother in our letters, and earlier during the battle – magic and technology do not mix, and magic will always find a way to trump technology."

As they emerged into the Great Hall, the present MOSSAD members stood up from their seats, immediately saluting. As he returned the salute, he noticed his brother do the same out of the corner of his eye. From behind him, the second girl also saluted, totally unbeknownst to Harry.

"Sir," Hermione said, walking up to them. "Hogwarts has been quiet, we have detected no security breaches or even suspected security breaches. We've position three remote eyes over Hogwarts, and are monitoring the environments close, nothing has been seen or detected. The security patrols are steadfast and on time, the only breaches detected was by two fifth-year Slytherins who were engaged in recreational activities in a broom closet."

Harry nodded. "Have they been checked?"

"Yes, Sir. They're clean. No polyjuice or glamour charms."

"Good. Now I have to go talk to the Headmaster." Harry strode off to the front, Hermione smiling slightly, and turning.

"I never want to miss a good bash between the Major and the Headmaster," she said with a wink to Sousuke and his two companions.

"Headmaster," Harry said, saluting. "My apologies for interrupting dinner."

"That was quite a show, Mister Potter. Perhaps you can explain what has happened?"

Harry nodded, and stepped into parade-rest. "I received the auto-teleporting scroll I sent to my brother for emergencies. This was one such emergency. Himself and two VIPs under his protection were under attack from a group of hostiles. I have yet to know their identities, however. I called together a strike force consisting out of the best MOSSAD members, and arranged for a higher state of security on Hogwarts. As you can see, we suffered no casualties nor injuries, while succeeding in the rescue of my brother and his two VIPs."

Dumbledore nodded at the concise report. "Very well, Mister Potter. I must ask you, what force did you use? I hope not to read about dead muggles in tomorrow's _Daily Prophet_."

"We used disabling spells mostly, Sir. Stunners are very effective on non-magicals, as they lack the ability to counteract those charms themselves." he left out the giant Arm-Slave, no evidence ment no crime in his book. The pilot was dead but with his machine vaporized, there was no evidence of it ever taking place.

"I see."

"Furthermore, I would like to request shelter for my brother and his VIPs for a few days, until they have a chance to contact their people and arrange for transport."

Dumbledore frowned slightly, and looked at the three newcomers, standing at the back of the Great Hall. One girl scowling slightly, the other carefully neutral, although hiding a sense of excitement as she looked at everything, while the boy Dumbledore assumed to be Harry's brother stood at parade rest, arms behind his back, head held high, staring straight ahead as if he were at the parade ground rather than in a magical castle.

"Your brother and his... VIPs... are muggles, Mister Potter."

"That is correct, Sir," Harry said, trying to hide his sarcasm. From the tightened look on McGonagall's face, he was not succeeding completely.

"How is it that they can see Hogwarts?" the Headmaster then asked.

"I exempted them from the Muggle-Aversion charms, Sir."

"And how did you did that, Mister Potter? Only the Headmaster is able to grant an exemption."

Harry frowned slightly. "Hermione taught me the spell, Sir. She learned it from _Hogwarts, A History_."

"I see," Dumbledore replied, although his tone made it painfully clear that he did _not _see. Finally, he nodded. "Very well. I will have some quarters prepared for them. They can stay."

"Thank you very much, Sir," Harry said, gratefully. The Headmaster's eyes started to twinkle slightly.

"You are most welcome, Mister Potter."

Harry nodded, saluted, turned on his heel, and marched back to his brother, finally taking a good look, in proper lighting, at his companions.

Halfway through the Great Hall, he paled significantly.

Stopping before them, he abruptly saluted the second, quieter girl. Who, everybody only now realized, was dressed in a military uniform.

"My sincerest apologies, Captain!" Harry barked out, maintaining his salute. "I was not informed that my brother had his commanding officer with him." He shot a glare at Sousuke, who remained ever stoic.

The silver-haired girl returned the salute with a genuine smile. "No problem, Major," she said, glancing at his shoulder pads to read his rank. "Thank you for the timely rescue. I hope we won't be a bother."

"N-No bother at all, Captain!" Harry said, louder than strictly necessary, making the blue-haired girl palm her face, and mutter, _Not another one_...

Dean frowned slightly, and whispered to Hermione. "Why is Harry so polite to her? She's a Captain, he's a Major – doesn't he outrank her?"

Hermione glanced at the boy, and shot him an almost-glare. "First, we're a student organisation, and Harry just made up the ranks as we went along. She's from an actual military organisation. Her rank is legitimate, ours aren't. Second, she's a Captain in the _Navy_.Even if Harry's rank were official, she'd _still _outrank him. A Captain in the Navy can command up to 5,000 people aboard an aircraft carrier, for instance. A Navy Captain ranks equal with a Lieutenant-Colonel in the army, which is the ranking system we've been using."

Dean, pale after the somewhat-harsh lecture, nodded. "Thank you, ma'am."

Hermione smiled slightly. "You're welcome, Dean."

"Please, I'm not in command here," the female captain said, still smiling, and held out her hand. "Captain Teletha Testarossa, pleased to meet you. Please call me Tessa."

Harry clasped it. "Major Harry Potter, pleased to meet you," he replied, somewhat off his tea-water. "Please call me Harry."

"Hey what about me?" the blue-haired girl interrupted. "I don't even warrant an introduction anymore?"

Harry released the Captain's hand, and turned to face her. Somewhat robotically, he said, "My apologies for having had other things on my mind, miss. I am Sousuke's brother, Harry Potter."

Somewhat mollified, the girl grasped his held-out hand, and said," Kaname Chidori."

He released the hand. "Permit me to show you to your quarters." As he finished, he held up a hand. "Please do not be alarmed. Dobby?"

Dobby popped in next to Harry, making Kaname and Tessa both jump and squeak, while making Sousuke make a grab for his gun, only to realize there was no cause for concern by the time he had the gun halfway up to drawing a bead on the newcomer.

"Dobby is from a rase we call house-elves. Their mission in life is to provide support of all kinds," Harry explained calmly, causing the girls to relax and Sousuke to put his gun back. Harry was thankful he had checked himself before shooting – he wasn't sure what the outcome would be of a house-elf versus a bullet. "Dobby, have you prepared quarters for our guests?"

Dobby nodded eagerly. "Dobby's elves be having preparing quarters for Major Harry Potter Sir's guests! Dobby's elves having prepared Gryffindor VIP quarters, they is being in front of portrait of Fat Lady. Dobby is having password." He handed Harry a scrap of parchment. Harry read it, then destroyed it with a wave of his wand. "Dobby's elves is also being preparing some food for Major Harry Potter Sir's guests."

Harry nodded, and turned to the new trio. "I didn't know whether you have eaten, so I asked to prepare some food. I made sure to request light food, I did not know how long it has been since you have eaten."

"Thank you, Major, that was very thoughtful of you," the female captain replied with a kind smile.

For some reason, Harry's guts clenched, and it felt as if his stomach was about to drop to the floor. "You are welcome, Captain," he replied, somehow managing to speak calmly. He motioned to the doors and the tables. "Do you prefer to eat here, or in your quarters?"

"I think that a relaxing dinner would be best in our new quarters," she decided after a few moment's thought.

Harry nodded. "Please, follow me." He nodded once more to Dobby. "Thank you for your assistance, Captain. I hope that you and the others were not injured tonight?"

Dobby shook his head rapidly from side to side. "Dobby and Dobby's elves be shielding bullets. Dobby and Dobby's elves not being injured."

Harry nodded. "Good to hear." He saluted the elf. "Dismissed."

Dobby returned a passable salute. "Sir." he vanished.

As Harry started walking, the others following him, he was aware that his command staff was also following. He couldn't blame them, they probably had just as many questions as the newcomers had.

Preceding them to the seventh floor, he pointed out the shifting staircases, the trick steps, the pitfalls, and so forth. Sosuke grunted appreciatively. Those would made _great _security devices to trap unaware intruders. Kaname was less appreciative. Tessa remained silent as she absorbed the information.

"Captain?" he asked, dropping so he was walking next to her, climbing the stairs to the sixth floor.

"Didn't I ask you to call me Tessa, Major?" she asked, smiling slightly at him.

"As I have asked you to call me Harry," Harry said levelly.

"Point taken," she replied, her smile growing slightly. "Harry."

His stomach flip-flopped. "Tessa," he repeated.

"Yes, Harry?" she asked, her smile growing rather impish for some reason.

Giving his lack of social understanding, that was nothing new. Usually, he'd get information from Hermione. This time, he glanced at his brother, as he probably understood his commanding officer better.

Sousuke gave no outward reaction, so Harry thought it safe to continue. "I wish to thank you," he told her.

She frowned slightly, the cutest expression of puzzlement on her face. For a moment, he wondered where _that _thought had come from. "If there's someone who has to thank you, it should be me, Harry," Tessa replied.

"I wish to thank you for not calling me out over my... rather inappropriate... use of military titles. I am aware we are only a student organisation, and can not compare to a true military organisation, yet you did not comment on this fact – rather, you..." he frowned, searching for the correct word. "Perhaps the correct wording would be... 'played along'?"

She nodded slightly, understanding what he was saying now. "Harry," she finally answered, "Your brother, Kaname, and I, were headed to a meeting of the... organization... to which Sousuke and I belong. While there, we were attacked, and no doubt a lot of senior officers were incapacitated. Your brother managed to get us away, however, we were tracked down, and attacked. He called for assistance, and within ten minutes, you came to our rescue. You managed to, with a warning of ten minutes, to plan a mission, assemble your people, get them in place, and take out the adversary with superior numbers and surprise tactics. You then extracted us, without a single injury on our or your parts. Then we find out you have quarters prepared for us, and a hot meal waiting for whenever we want it."

She stopped there, and looked at him. "Harry, you may be the leader of a student organisation. However, any student organisation able to do what you and your people have done tonight have earned my respect." She smiled widely. "Had you called yourself 'general', I would like to believe I would have cheerfully saluted you."

Harry stared with open mouth, unable to believe what he had just heard. "But... I... I mean..."

Neville looked at Hermione with a faint smile. "I think that's the first time I've seen Harry at a loss for words."

Hermione nodded. "I believe it's because he has never considered himself good enough. It's probably the first time he's actually heard words to that effect from someone who was actually in a position to comment."

"Thank you, Captain," Harry finally said, honestly.

Her smile widened considerably. "You're welcome, Major," she replied, right before emitting a loud, "WHOOPS" as she tripped over a non-trick step.

Harry, right next to her, reached out with lightning reflexes, grabbing her arm and preventing her from falling. "S-sorry," she muttered, looking rather embarrassed. "I'm a bit clumsy."

"And you suck at sports," Kaname added with a chuckle.

Tessa's embarrassment rose. "And I suck at sports," she added with a small voice. She looked up at Harry. "Thank you for the rescue."

He helped her upright. "You're welcome, Tessa."

Harry finally halted them in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. "This is the Fat Lady, she guards the entrance to our assigned barracks, called 'Gryffindor'," Harry explained. "She will only open the portrait when the correct passphrase is spoken." He motioned to the opposite wall, where a painting of a landscape was attached to the wall. "This portrait is the guardian of the Gryffindor barracks VIP quarters, it too will only open with the correct passphrase."

The three newcomers nodded, while the regulars frowned slightly. "I don't recall that painting ever being there," Hermione muttered.

"Don't you love magic?" Neville asked with a raised eyebrow, earning him a sarcastic look from Hermione.

"Quasimodo," Harry told the painting. As there was no person present in the painted landscape, the portrait merely swung open, taking an entire section of wall with it, to reveal a comfortably wide and brightly lit passage way, complete with red and gold carpet on the floor. The passageway immediately gave way to the quarters themselves, and after everyone was inside, the wall sealed up behind them, although a door was present on this side.

"The door can be locked down when required to trap a person inside," Harry said. "This is the lounge and sitting area," he identified needlessly while everyone looked at the octagonal room, with its deep, dark grey walls, huge fireplace, a mahogany desk with leather chair, and plenty of very comfortable looking couches.

"I believe that, if my intelligence is correct, those four doors lead to separate bedrooms, each with an en-suite bathroom. I believe I will let you settle among yourselves who sleeps where," he finished, looking at the three newcomers. As they started to look at the rooms, Harry sagged into one of the chairs adjacent to a dining room table with a deep sigh.

"You are not healthy," Sousuke said, emerging from somewhere, making the magical people jump. Well, safe for Harry, of course.

"That finishing move takes a lot out of you, and physical discomfort is to be expected," Harry explained. As Susan sat down opposite Harry, she glared at him.

"_Physical discomfort? _Harry, last time you used one of those, you dropped unconscious and you needed hospital stay!"

"I'm getting better at them, and your potions helped," Harry replied, calmly.

Susan grunted something under her breath, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Whatever."

Sousuke sat down next to Harry, letting the other magical people fill in more of the chairs. Sousuke stared when the table expanded, adding chairs as needed. "Magic," Harry explained.

Sousuke merely nodded, while Tessa and Kaname rejoined the group. Immediately after they sat down, the table seemed to groan under the dishes placed upon it, and the same golden crockery from the Great Hall set itself in place before each person.

"_This _is a light dinner?" Kaname asked incredulously.

Harry nodded. "Chicken, turkey, and poultry are easily digestible, as are the various greens. Although I do wonder at the amount."

"Major Harry Potter Sir had his dinner interrupted, so Dobby be asking his elves to make enough for Major Harry Potter Sir and his staff," Dobby said, popping int place next to Harry, causing Sosuke to jump out of his chair, drawing his pistol, only to find his draw interrupted when Harry intercepted his arm.

"You need to get used to Dobby, brother."

Sousuke merely nodded. "I will make an attempt to do so."

Harry just nodded, and looked at Dobby, who had started to fret. "It is a good thought you had, Dobby. Thank you. Would you like to join us?"

Dobby's huge eyes seemed to grow even larger, actual tears starting to form. "Major Harry Potter Sir is asking Dobby to eat with him! Oh no, Sir, Dobby could not eat with the great Major Harry Potter Sir, Dobby be eating in kitchen with his elves, but Dobby be being so happy Major Harry Potter Sir asking him to join him!" Everyone was surprised the elf wasn't panting after finishing all that in a single breath.

"Very well, don't let me keep you from your dinner. Dismissed."

"Yes, Sir!" Dobby popped out again.

"Excitable, isn't he?" Tessa asked.

Harry nodded at her. "Very. It was a lucky day he decided to attack me."

Sousuke, who had been in the process of bringing a slice of turkey to his mouth, stopped his movement. "Attacked you?" he asked, already looking at the food as if it were poisoned.

Harry shrugged. "Dobby's previous master is an unsavoury character. After overhearing his master's plan to do me in, Dobby decided to take it upon himself to prevent any harm from befalling me. Unfortunately, he could not defy his master's orders, and thus could not tell me what was going on, and so he decided to stop me from attending Hogwarts. The hard way."

Harry took some chicken, chewed it, and swallowed. He _was _feeling rather hungry, even with his body aching all over. "Dobby made it through three lines of traps around my encampment, before engaging me. I managed to disarm and immobilize him, unfortunately, I was unable to interrogate or terminate him before I was forced to return. So, I decided to bring him with me, as my trophy in battle. Interrogation could wait until I was in privacy once more. I was then accosted by the son of said master."

He drank some orange juice. "As Dobby was mine by right of conquest, I decided to free him from said previous master and his insolent son, and convinced said son that it was very bad for his health to say 'no' to me. Since then, Dobby has been in the MOSSAD."

Sousuke stiffened. "MOSSAD?"

"Magical Organisation of Soldier Schooling and Applied Defence," Harry explained. Sousuke looked at him, before shaking his head slightly, and resuming his meal in silence. Tessa was stiffening a giggle behind her hand, while Kaname looked confused.

"What? I don't get it? What's the joke?"

"The Mossad is also the name of Israeli Intelligence," Sousuke explained. "They are responsible for Intelligence collection, covert operations, and paramilitary activities for the nation of Israel. It is similar to the CIA and MI6"

"Exactly," Harry said, glancing at his brother. "Glad to see you are still an expert on military history."

"Too much so at times," Kaname huffed. Harry glanced at her, his eyes tightening slightly, before ignoring her.

Tessa, deciding to be diplomatic, changed the subject. "So, you all go to this magical school. That must be so much fun!"

Harry nodded as he focused on her. "It has been... interesting," he said, glancing at his command staff. "Unfortunately, as this is a school of magic, and magic has very few limits imposed on it, things tend to... escalate."

Hermione _almost _managed to hide her snort. She held u one finger. "First year, a corrupt teacher let loose a troll in the school. Harry fought it off, and saved my life. Later that same year, that same teacher attempted to break into a... vault, you could say... where the Philosopher's Stone was being guarded. Harry, Neville, myself, and the students who alligned themselves with Harry stopped him from succeeding. In the process, the teacher was killed, and his corruptor ran." She held up a second finger, ignoring the dropped jaws from Tessa and Kaname. Sousuke had been briefed extensively via Harry's notes, and knew this already. "Second year, an enchanted diary containing the ghost of a dark wizard, ironically, an earlier version of the corruptor from first year, tried to possess a student, and tried to use her to set loose a giant giant on the school. Harry killed the snake, and freed the student."

Tessa stopped Hermione's rant. "When you say 'giant snake', how big do you mean? Because snakes aren't that dangerous, mostly."

"Sixty foot long, immune to magic and bulletproof, and able to kill you when you look into its eyes," Hermione expanded. Before she could go on, Tessa interrupted her again.

Although she was pale as a ghost, and shaking slightly. "If it's immune to magic... and bulletproof... how did you kill it?"

Harry shrugged. "Very few creatures survive being turned into hamburger."

Neville nodded. "It was very tasty, too. Best hamburger I ever had."

No further questions were forthcoming, as the two girls just stared at Harry as if he had lost his mind. "Third year, a convict escaped from prison, hellbent on killing Harry. Or so we thought. We captured the man, interrogated him, and found out he was innocent," Hermione went on, lifting a third finger. "We found out who the real person responsible was for the murder of Harry's parents. The rat made a run for it before we managed to capture him. But, we did manage to free the convict in question, who turned out to be Harry's godfather."

Harry nodded. "He's now safely in France."

"And now, fourth year," Hermione said, lifting a fourth finger, "Harry was enrolled into a magical tournament by an imposter posing as a teacher. We managed to expose the teacher, but the tournament is magically binding. If Harry doesn't compete, he will lose his magic – which is an almost automatic death sentence, as a magical person can't survive without a magical core. It would be like trying to live without a liver."

Harry shrugged. "As I said, interesting, and situations tend to escalate. Although they are interesting to me, and only seem to escalate _to _me. So you should be safe here for the next few days. We will try and find a way to contact your people tomorrow."

Tessa just nodded, her mind going into overdrive. "Right," she muttered. "This will take some time," she added. She blinked, and looked at Harry. "Harry... ehm... this is a bit embarrassing, but... we don't have any luggage."

Harry looked at her, frowned slightly, and opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, when he thought things through. "After dinner, I'll ask Dobby if we he could rustle up some spare clothes. If you can't be extracted tomorrow, we'll see about getting you some new clothes – or extract your luggage, if it's available."

As Harry finished speaking, said elf popped in right next to him. This time, Sosuke barely reached for his gun before determining the intrusion not to be a threat. "Dobby be having some nightclothes for Major Harry Potter Sir's guests. Dobby fairly sure they are good size."

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said. "But I thought you would be eating?"

Dobby shook his head. "Dobby having eaten already. Dobby be feeling Major Harry Potter Sir needing him, so Dobby be retrieving what Sir be needing."

"Well, this is in my size," Tessa said, standing up, and holding up the old-fashioned nightgown. "Where did you find this so quickly?" she asked the elf.

Dobby turned to her. "Dobby be going through items students lose over time, Miss. Dobby be finding these. Dobby do good?"

"Dobby did..." Tessa started, before smiling. Now the house-elf had her speaking like him! The little thing's enthusiasm was contagious. "You did very well, Dobby. Thank you."

"Miss be most welcome!" Dobby said. "Miss be leaving out her clothes after dark, Dobby be cleaning them personally."

"Personal laundry service," Hermione said with a faint smile. "Lucky you, Tessa."

Tessa smiled wider at the little elf. "Thank you."

"Yes, Thank you," Kaname finally said, holding her own nightgown.

"Miss and Miss be welcome," Dobby said, and popped away.

"That will take a lot of getting used to," Kaname muttered, staring at the spot the elf was in before vanishing.

Tessa shrugged. "Maybe. But it's nice to have someone who's so eager to please." She looked at the gown, again neatly folded on the side of the table. "And fast service, too."

"You won't find anyone more loyal than Dobby," Harry said. "Treat him well, and he'll move the world for you."

Kaname looked at him. "What do you mean, treat him well?"

Harry looked at her. "Dobby has not been treated well by his last master. He was ordered to punish himself - running into walls at top speed, twist his ears, iron his hand, and so on."

"In the wizarding world, a house-elf is seen as a domestic slave," Hermione expanded when she saw Harry having difficulty explaining what he meant. "And are treated as such, too. We treat the elves here, and Dobby and the elves in the MOSSAd especially, as people. In turn, they are incredibly loyal."

"Slavery?" Tessa asked, sounding about as revolted as Kaname looked.

"House-elves are very loyal creatures," Hermione explained further. "They would rather die than betray their masters. Unfortunately, the loyalty is being abused – and there is very little we can do about it, as a house elf without a master withers away. Even Dobby has bound himself to Harry."

00000 Some bad news 00000

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked as Tessa left his office, down in the Command Centre. Hermione had magicked a working telephone, and managed to attach it to the non-magical telephone grid. He himself had left his office, leaving Tessa to her privacy as she communicated with her superiors in the organisation she worked for.

She shook her head, sending her silver ponytail flying from left to right. "Unfortunately, no," she replied to Harry's question, while turning to look at Kaname and Sousuke. "It seems that this attack on British soil against Mithril was more elaborate than we thought. There are currently no resources available to evacuate us. Mithril is heavily engaged all over Europe, it seems. As I am part of the Pacific Fleet, and Sousuke is attached as a Security Detail to Kaname, we've been ordered to remain here." She sighed slightly. "That was my recommendation. It was either stay here or at a Mithril safe house, which may not be safe."

"This location is secure," Harry said. "We will protect you without question, and without fail. How long do you estimate your stay will be?"

"The submarine I am in command of is currently undergoing repairs and retrofits. It will be at least four months before it is operational again. I expect we will be here at least that long. We may be gone faster if the conflict clear up and Mithril has some spare resources, but at the moment, any movement or transportation is too dangerous."

"What? But school!" Kaname asked. "I can't afford to miss months of school!"

Harry waved her off. "That's not an issue. We have a chamber that will allow you to take any class or course or education you require in a few days. I myself have used it to go through Military School, and command and staff college. I was planning on following War School education, but that plan has been foiled – I do not even have two days free for it."

"What Harry failed to explain," Hermione said, "Is that the Room of Requirement can become anything you require. In this case, you 'require' it to be your school back home, and it becomes as such. It will also distort time and space. You will go in, and it will feel like you spent an entire year. You will come out, and only two days will have passed on the outside, and your physical ageing will be only those two days."

"Ingenious," Sousuke said, beating Kaname and Tessa to the punch. "One could train an operative in all the arts of warfare in on month, and keep him regularly updated, without interrupting his time on the battlefield. Similarly, one could use it to treat soldiers, or put them through rehab without loss of combat time – or age him unduly, thus maintaining his operational effectiveness."

"Exactly," Harry said. "Unfortunately, only one such room exists, and it can only accommodate one physical location at a time. If one is inside, 'requiring' a school, the room is a school, and it can not become a hospital unless the original person interrupts it, leaves the room, let it deactivate, and the new 'requirement' is implemented."

"But, in this case, we can use it to keep Kaname up to date – or potentially push her far ahead of her peers, as we can go through four years of college in a mere two days of real time," Hermione explained.

Kaname just stood there, gaping at them.

00000 a bit later 00000

"May I enter?" Harry asked when he opened the door to the VIP quarters. Even though he (still) had the password to open up the entrance, he never forgot that this was basically his guests' home now.

"Of course!" Tessa said immediately, looking up from the couch upon which she was seated, reading some book or other. Possibly something recommended to her by Hermione.

"Thank you," he said politely, taking the seat she offered with a motion of her hand. Sousuke, ever vigilant, emerged from his own room, relaxing as he went. For a moment, he wondered where Kaname went, then decided to ignore her whereabouts. "I have been in discussion with the Headmaster this afternoon," he explained. "To arrange for your continued stay. Needles to say, he was not happy about a trio of non-magical people staying in what is essentially a magical castle."

Sousuke nodded, having expected something like that, while the young captain seemed to shrink, and stare at the floor. "I'm sorry, I hope we didn't put you through too much trouble. I'm afraid I assumed things," she said demurely.

Harry shrugged. "The headmaster and I have had... discussions... before," he finally replied. "I was forced to make a few concessions, but I managed to negotiate hospitality for you for the duration of your stay."

"What kind of concessions?" Sousuke asked, his ever-present paranoid streak coming to the fore. For a moment, harry thought about introducing his brother to the real-life Alastor Moody, then decided against it. Hogwarts would no doubt be levelled if the two paranoids ever came into contact.

"First of all, you will need to remain on the ground, unless accompanied by a member of magical society," Harry said. "This was a most difficult rule to negotiate, for the headmaster basically wanted you imprisoned. At least I managed to make sure you are able to leave, as long as a member of the MOSSAD goes with you."

"Which is something that would have been done anyway," Sousuke said with a faint nod.

Tessa nodded. "I understand. Thank you for going thorugh all the trouble," she said with a respectful nod in Harry's direction.

"You're expecting me to be cooped up in this castle unless I have a babysitter!" Kaname demanded, storming out of her room. "It's bad enough I have to have captain destruction over there babysitting me, now you're expecting me to have a magical babysitter as well!"

Harry looked at Sousuke, and lifted an eyebrow, as if asking 'captain destruction?' before focusing on the irate girl. "It was the best I could do. So, yes, I expect you to honour it."

"And who are you to decide this?" the blue-haired girl demanded, planting her fists in her sides. "You can't just run our lives!"

Harry stood up, and faced her. He was a few years younger – if he guessed, he placed her at about his brother's age, which would make her two to three years older than he was. This mean that he was physically shorter than she was, placing his eyes at about her neck level.

He found that the psychological advantage she had of forcing him to look up at her didn't bother him that much. "I am very sorry that I am running your life, miss Chidori. I am also sorry that you are essentially confined to this castle, which has saved your life and will continue to do so. I am also sorry that, ever since I risked my life, and the lives of my friends, I have not been able to give you the obviously royal treatment your life is worth. I am _also _sorry that, next to classes, I am also running an organisation with hundreds of people in it, as well as two groups of people from foreign countries, with all the language and cultural problems that entails, thus preventing me from giving you the absolute freedom you require in order to feel happy – even though your life is in danger."

He drew a breath. "make no mistake, miss Chidori," Harry pushed on, taking a step forward, and being oddly pleased that she took a step back, her face conveying shock. "I have saved your life at risk of my own and my people. I have done so without question, without reservation, and without conditions. The reason for such is simple. 'Captain Destruction' as you call him is my brother, and he asked me. Such is the bond between family. You, miss Chidori, are here because he asked such of me. That is the only reason you are here, and that you are remaining here. However, you yourself mean nothing to me. You have been arrogant, confrontational, and downright ungrateful to both myself and my brother. I would suggest looking at captain Testarossa to get some pointers in how to behave in polite society."

He looked at Sousuke. "I know she is your VIP. However, magic has some very good potions which will render a person unconscious without any side-effects. I would suggest thinking about them – for an unconscious VIP is one that is easy to guard." From the corner of his vision, he saw Tessa stifle a giggle behind her hand.

His instincts flred, and Harry dodged to one side, automatically bringing up his Glock in his left hand, and his wand in his right, both weapons pointed straight at Kaname Chidori, who was wielding a giant paper fan she had drawn from... somewhere.

"You... you... are _worse _than Sosuke," she breathed angrily, waving the fan about.

"I would suggest putting that down, miss Chidori. That was your one free swing."

Kaname blinked at the utter lack of infliction in Harry's voice. She looked at Sousuke, who, for the first time, looked in serious conflict. "It is my duty to protect you, Kaname," Sousuke finally said. "But, my brother is my family, and it is obvious that he will not tolerate the same level of violence from you as I am. I would suggest doing as he tells you."

"You would _let _him hurt me!"

"The question is, why should I let _you _hurt _him_?" Sousuke asked.

"But... but..."

"Put the weapon away, miss Chidori," Harry declared. "And I would suggest not engaging in... the usual level of violence... against my brother, or I _will _take action."

"That is alright, I am used to it. It is not a problem," Sousuke said.

"Simply because you are used to it, and can take it, does not make it alright. Such a thing could be labelled under 'abuse', Brother," Harry muttered, still maintaining his weapons' lock on Kaname, as long as she had the fan out. Grudgingly, she put it away.

Harry's weapons were sheathed so fast they seemed to vanish.

00000 A few days later 00000

Harry rubbed his temples as he hunched over the desk in the VIP quarters' living room. Kaname had been behaving herself, and Sousuke and Tessa didn't mind that Harry came here to 'hide away' – after all, the password was known only to Harry, his command crew, and the three refugees.

He put down the pen he had been using, and wiped at his eyes. Somehow, things seemed to be going more difficult for him, ever sine the refugees had needed rescue.

Maybe it was the added stress of keeping up security patrols. Maybe it was the added security reports. Or maybe it was just the fact that his mind just refused to focus, and kept wandering off.

It irked Harry. He had never lost a minute when he did his assigned tasks. He never spent a minute more than was required, and he never took two steps when one was sufficient.

And now, he found himself thinking more and more about other things. He started to... 'daydream', or so Hermione had called it. She had proclaimed it natural.

Thankfully, Harry hadn't needed to explain what he was daydreaming _about_.

Standing up, he walked to the couch, and sat down, staring into the fire. "Tilly? Are you still up?" he asked the quiet of the post-darkness VIP quarters.

The little house-elf popped into existence next to him. "I is still awake, Major Harry Potter Sir."

He looked t the little elf, and gave her a small smirk. "Dobby is having a bad influence on you."

The house-elf nodded proudly. "Dobby be teaching us lots of things!"

"No doubt," he muttered. "Could I have a cup of tea?"

Tilly nodded. "What tea would Major Harry Potter Sir wish? We is having lots of different kinds."

Harry sighed, he should have expected the question. "Surprise me, Tilly."

"Tilly can do that!" the excited elf replied, and popped away.

Shaking his head, Harry closed his eyes, and rested his face in his hands, trying to get rid of the pounding headache in between his ears. He shot up when he heard one of the doors opening.

And oddly enough, it wasn't his brother's. "Harry?"

"I hope I did not wake you," Harry told Tessa.

She shook her head, her customary pony-tail bobbing back and fro. She eased herself into the couch next to him. "I thought I heard voices, and as I was still up, I thought I'd take a look."

Harry shrugged, then nodded. "I just asked Tilly for a cup of tea."

Tilly showed the house-elves' genetic disposition towards good timing, as she took that precise moment to pop in with Harry's tea. "I is brining pot of Darjeeling for Major Harry Potter Sir. Would Miss Captain be liking something?"

Tessa looked at the tea-pot and the single porcelain cup. Harry shrugged. "Just another cup, I'll pilfer some of Harry's tea, please," she said with a faint smile. The elf-nodded, and popped away. Two seconds later, a second teacup popped up on the tray.

After Harry poured the beverages, and prepared Tessa's tea (three lumps of sugar, she had a sweet teeth, he noted), they sat, sipping the hot tea.

"How do you do it?" Harry finally asked.

"Sorry?" she asked, blinking, falling out of whatever thoughts she was having.

"Being a captain, being in command," Harry explained. "How do you do it? I know it can't really be compared, I am after all, not in an official organisation of any kind, while you are a real naval Captain, but I thought that maybe, you could give me some pointers." He shut up then, oddly aware that he had been rambling.

He had never done _that _before, either.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"I thought I told you, Harry," she replied with that usual friendly smile of hers, "that, no matter what status your organisation has, after what I have seen, you are more than 'official' in my book." She sighed. "As to how I do it – through hard work, and discipline, I guess. It is difficult to have the lives of so many people in your hands, have everyone look to you, for strength, for guidance, for hope." She looked back at him. "I thought you said you had gone through military school, and then command and staff college?"

Harry nodded. "Theory is all nice and good, but when the chips are down, the real world is something entirely else. And I have been in enough combat to know what makes a lousy officer, a good officer, and a great officer."

Tessa just nodded. "I know what you mean. In the end, all we can do is lead by example." Finally, she sighed. "it isn't easy, especially when you lose someone, and have to write the letter to their families."

As they talked, Harry had the impression that he learned more from a few hours of talking to Tessa than he had ever learned from years of military schooling in the room of requirement.

They sat, staring into the fire, the tea long gone and the tea set removed by Tilly. Harry, not having need of much sleep, had been lost in thoughts until he noticed a curious lack of movement from next to him.

Tessa had fallen asleep next to him. He shifted, looking for a good way to pick her up and carry her to her bed without waking her up, and his movement shifted the couch.

The girl sighed in her sleep, shifted, and lowered her to one side, her head firmly entrenched on Harry's lap, the boy sitting there with his hands and arms up, a look of shock on his face.

_NOW what do I do? Levitating someone is disorienting as all heck, not to mention nauseating. And I can't pick her up when I'm sitting down myself!_

She murmured something in her sleep, and made no signs of either waking or moving. Harry's hands were still in the air. He had no idea what to do next. After nearly ten minutes, his muscles finally started to ache, and he knew he couldn't exactly stay like that forever.

Looking for a safe place, he decided to put his right hand down on her shoulder.

Contact made. She didn't wake, and din't exactly seem to be bothered, so had breathed one breath of relief.

One hand down, one to go.

His left hand was easier, as he had an armrest on his left side he could use.

Finally submitting himself to a night spent upright in a couch, Harry closed his eyes.

Only to open them an undetermined amount of time later at the sound of a safety being removed.

"Brother?" Harry asked, inching his hand toward his glock, then stopping immediately when he realized his right hand was still on Tessa's shoulder. His lefthand somehow gotten off the armrest, and was now entangled in the girl's silver hair, which didn't seem to bother the sleeping girl, judging from her smile.

"May I ask what you were doing with my commanding officer?" Sousuke asked, actually sounding a bit miffed about something.

"We were talking, and she fell asleep. I felt I should let her sleep, rather than wake her," Harry explained.

"I see. And if I were to ask this question of my captain?" Sousuke asked.

"You would receive the same answer, Sergeant," Tessa replied from her position on Harry's lap.

Sousuke jumped at attention as if bitten. Harry stiffed comically, expecting any sort of outburst at any sort of moment.

"You make a good pillow, Harry," Tessa said, getting up and smiling widely at him, before sauntering off and disappearing into her room.

"That was... unexpected," Sousuke offered.

"Extremely," Harry agreed. "What time is it?"

"Oh-six-hundred, time for early morning practice."

00000 some training scene, fits in somewhere 00000

Harry's lungs burned as he drew in big gulps of air. His feet pounded the ground as he ran the corner at full speed, keeping next to Sousuke, who seemed to be breathing as hard as he was. Behind them, a few of the hardier MOSSAD members were following in their footsteps. The other MOSSAD members, as well as the rest of the guests, and various visitors, were watching from a small distance away.

After all, it was not every day that one could see a death race taking place at Hogwarts. Most participants had given up long ago, and only the most well-trained participants made it this far.

More students fell away, until it was only Harry and Sousuke left.

They glanced at each other as they neared the marker of the lap. Coming to a silent understanding, they crossed the marker, and slowly ran to a halt, walking off the strain of the extended run.

"That was over thirty kilometres," Sousuke told Harry. "You are still in excellent condition."

Harry nodded. "I have kept up my training," he replied, walking to where his clothes were. He was dressed only in pants and a t-shirt, the cool november air not enough to prevent him from shedding his sweater or his jacket. Next to him, Sousuke angled for his own pile of clothes.

"That is good to hear," his brother said, suddenly drawing a knife, and aiming for Harry's neck.

The smaller boy ducked and rolled, grabbing the sheathed knife from his pile of clothes, and drawing it. "You neglected to run armed," Sousuke admonished, aiming a strike at a crouching Harry.

Harry rolled away from the strike, and came to his feet. "I have a wand, I am always armed," Harry said. He darted back from a jab from Sousuke. "However, in the spirit of fair play..." He caught the next strike on the edge of his own knife, blocking it, and rolled inside the strike, aiming his knife for his brother's exposed side.

Sousuke disengaged and darted away, while brining his knife up, aimed at Harry's back, causing him to duck underneath the strike, and aim for Sousuke's legs, trying to swipe his feet from under him.

Sousuke evaded the rather clumsy take-down, shifted his knife, and charged.

Harry blocked two more strikes, trying to dart back for a few steps before Sousuke's knife was suddenly at his throat. "Your condition is excellent, and your speed is adequate, but you have neglected hand-to-hand combat training," Sousuke concluded.

Harry nodded. "I have had too many other things to learn, and one can not master every discipline. Magic took the place of hand-to-hand, as it is more or less at the same range."

Sousuke took three steps back. "Prove it."

Harry nodded, and walked to where he had dropped his sheath. Sheathing his knife, he placed it back on top of his clothes. With a quick flick, he had drawn his wand from where he kept it.

As Sousuke charged, Harry rolled underneath him, and jerked a _petrificus totalus _at Sousuke.

Although slower than a bullet, the spell had one advantage – it didn't matter where it hit to completely incapacitate a person. Sousuke attempted to dodge, the spell clipped his shoulder, and down he went.

"_Finite Incantatem_," Harry declared. "That was a simple freezing spell, with no damage. That could have been a lethal spell."

Sousuke nodded. "Magic seems an excellent tool."

"Range is rather limited, rate of fire is on par with a bolt-action rifle, speed is subsonic," Harry stated. "Hence why I have slotted it in 'hand-to-hand combat'. But it is the defences that are unmatched."

"Explain," Sousuke stated.

"_Protego," _Harry incanted, summoning a golden iridescent shield into existence around him. A small gasp went through the crowd, not everyone had seen how far Harry had mastered magic, and casting a corporeal protego shield was not something most people could do on the drop of a hat. "This shield is neigh-impenetrable, it will block bullets, knives, and physical strikes as well as most magical spells. Only a few spells can penetrate, and those are catalogued as 'unforgivable' – a kind of illegal."

Sousuke looked at him, thoughtfully. "Any specifications?"

Harry shrugged. "It takes quite a bit of power. I can keep this shield up for a few hours. Sustaining it under barrage takes even more, and depends on the witch and wizard in question. Not everyone can make one as powerful as mine. I do know mine can sustain itself through a full clip of an AK-47. Downside is that it blocks both ways. I need to drop the shield before I can retaliate."

"As most defences," Sousuke said, nodding. "I believe it is time for breakfast, we should not be late."

Harry nodded, dressing himself.

00000 Later 0000

Harry was sitting behind the huge mahogany desk in the VIP quarters, trying to catch up on some paperwork.

His homework had been done ages ago, but if there was one thing he had found out, it was that an organisation like the MOSSAD required something akin to paperwork – having people come up to him and ask for things had gotten quite boring, quite fast.

And so, the bureaucracy had been born.

Harry still wished Hermione could figure out how to travel back in time, so he could stop himself from ever starting the madhouse.

Rubbing his temples, he sighed, and swivelled the chair around so he could stare out the window. It was a nice window, with an even nice view of the grounds and the Forbidden Forest. Closing his yes, he thought back to a conversation he'd had with Tessa the day before.

It was strange how well they could talk, even despite their obvious background differences. He hadn't been able to talk with Hermione or Neville like that.

Perhaps it was the military background they had in common – even if his skills had been taught under fire and hers had been taught by books an teachers, there was still some kind of common ground for them to hang their experiences on.

He sighed, and dug his fingers deeper into his temples. It wasn't as much as having a headache, but more like an ever-present tension that just refused to abate. It was... irksome. He thought about swivelling back and resuming his paperwork.

Boring paperwork.

He remained where he was, resuming the strange ways his life had progressed these last few years – and especially this last month. Ever since he'd had a nice little chat with Kaname – which ended almost in battle-lines being drawn – the girl had changed her attitude, and she'd even started going to some classes with him and most of his command crew – just like Tessa and Sousuke had been doing.

The girl was tolerable now, despite her aversion to all things military. Harry made an effort not to rub her nose in it, and she had decided on turning a blind eye to minor things.

Sousuke had integrated well, he found. The MOSSAD kept asking him for advice, updating the records Harry had written himself with the latest technology and tactics. Harry had never felt so out-of-date before.

Thankfully, Tessa hadn't seen anything wrong with helping him catch up while his brother revised the tactical references used by the MOSSAD.

Which brought him back to thinking about the conversation they'd had yesterday, discussing the various improvements Hermione had made to standard spells, in itself a conversation that had been brought by Tessa explaining the changes she had introduced that enabled her to design and build the boat upon which she was Captain – the submersible carrier _Tuatha de Danaan_.

It was strange to see how alike the two girls were in that respect.

Something snapped in front of his face, and Harry jerked ot the ground, the swivel-chair clattering to the ground as he did so, and rolled into a crouch, one hand carrying a pistol, the other holding his wand.

"You know better than to startle me, Cpatain," Harry snapped at Hermione, who was watching him with obvious amusement, having snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"I've called your name four times, _Sir," _Hermione said on a teasing tone as Harry got up and hid his weapons. "So I snapped my fingers. You were daydreaming."

"I was NOT _daydreaming," _Harry refuted. "I was... thinking about various tactical aspects."

Hermione nodded. "Of course," she said with such obvious sincerity that it couldn't be anything but sarcastic."

Harry grumbled as he righted his chair. "Fine, so I was lost in thought."

Hermione, taking one of the empty seats in front of the desk, sat down and eyed him. "You've been doing that a lot the last few weeks. Anything I can do to help?"

Harry appreciated the question, but shook his head. "I have had a lot on my mind, especially with our guests."

Hermione shrugged. "I've had no problems with them. Your brother reminds me of you when you first started here, Kaname reminds me a lot of me – before you broke me. It seems that she isn't breaking as easily as I am. And Tessa... well, she's just smart. Scarily so, almost."

Harry just nodded, looking at the offending piece of bureaucracy on his desk that had refused to fill itself in while his back had been turned. He just nodded in response to Hermione's assessment.

The remained silent like that for a few minutes, Harry frowning at the paperwork, and Hermione looking at him. "Something is bothering you," she finally spoke.

"Nothing is bothering me," Harry replied, too quickly for it to be anything but a rehearsed response.

Hermione settled into her comfy chair. The VIP quarters really did have nice furniture. "Harry, do you remember a deal we made?"

Harry looked up at her. "Which one?"

"You would make me as good as I could be, and you have delivered upon that promise. In return, I would help you with social interactions, and anything else I could help with. I helped you a lot during first year, a bit during second, and nothing since. I think you still need me."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confused. "I remember that deal, but I have not asked for help _as I do not need it_."

"I think you do."

Harry refrained from answered, and just looked at her. It would be childish to reply _Do not_.

"For instance, have you asked someone to the Yule Ball?" Hermione finally asked, when it become obvious Harry was just going to sit there and glare at her. She had long since become immune to his lower-level glares.

Harry sighed. "No," he admitted, fidgeting slightly.

"Why not?"

"No compatible partners," Harry replied – again, immediately, no thought involved.

"Oh? I think most girls in this castle would give their left arm to go to the ball with you."

Harry lifted an eyebrow, and looked at her. "The interesting girls are in the MOSSAD. I can not ask them, that would be conflict of interest. Those not in the MOSSAD are vapid airheads."

"And those are excuses, and you know it," Hermione replied. "Nobody will think less of you if you asked a girl from the MOSSAd – especially the girl you ask. And I am sure that there are still interesting girls out there that are not in the MOSSAD."

Harry sighed, and shook his head. "Would you?" he asked.

Hermione frowned. "Would I... what?"

"Think less of me if I asked you?"

Hermione smiled sightly. "I wouldn't think less of you – unfortunately, I have already agreed to go with Neville." She blushed slightly.

"I see," Harry said, nodding. He refocused on her. "As you can see, all the interesting girls will have been taken."

Hermione shook her head. "And that's another excuse. I'm sure there are still interesting girls that have not been asked."

Harry leaned on the desk, ignoring the paperwork that _still _hadn't filled itself in. "Name one," he challenged finally.

The brunette shrugged. "Tessa."

Harry's jaw fell open as he stared at her. Finally shaking his head to free himself, he chuckled darkly. "I could not ask Tessa."

"Why not?" Hermione challenged right back.

"The captain could do a lot better," Harry replied, swivelling the chair to face the window.

"Oh no, you don't, Harry Potter," Hermione declared, brandishing her wand dangerously, causing the chair to swivel back around and Transfiguring itself into position. "Why could Tessa do a lot better?"

Harry groaned, and rubbed his temples. "Hermione, stay out of this."

"I'm your teacher in social studies now, you can't order me around," Hermione said with a slight smile. "Now. Harry... please... explain it to me."

Jumping out of the chair, he started pacing. "The captain is brilliant, as you noted. I am anything but. She is a real captain, in a real military organisation. I am a Major, a rank I assigned myself, in a student organisation, which has yet to see real combat. She is also sociable, again, something I am not. And yes, I am not above admitting that she is also physically attractive. She could have any escort she wants. Even Snape likes her, and he does not like anybody." He snorted. "She could do a lot better than an impostor."

Hermione just sat there, listening to his diatribe. Finally, when he finished, she looked him square in the eye. "Harry," she said gently. "I think you have a crush."

He fell back into the not-swivelling swivel chair. "Excuse me?" he asked.

"I think you have a crush on Captain Teletha Testarossa," Hermione replied, doing her best to keep her voice steady and her face level. With anybody else, it would have been funny. With Harry, it just another reminder of his life.

"I do NOT have a crush," he stated, quite a bit louder than was commonly accepted.

"When you are daydreaming, you're thinking about her, aren't you?" Hermione asked shrewdly, ignoring his statement. Harry's startled look was all the affirmative she needed. "It's normal, Harry. You shouldn't worry about it. And, in all honesty, you could fare a lot worse. The girl's brilliant, no doubt about it, and she's nice and friendly. And yes, she's pretty. You've got good taste."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, as sarcastically as he could. Given his upbringing and lack of experience, it wasn't much, but it got the point across.

"Welcome," Hermione replied, totally ignoring the sarcasm. "now, nobody dares approach our guests for something like this, and I'm sure that Sousuke has already decided on going with Kaname, as much as those two are joined at the hip. So, why don't you ask Tessa?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Hermione, I have told you why."

"That's just your insecurities talking," the girl waved it off. "Just ask her."

"She'll be gone in a few months anyway. Things will get back to normal. There's no need for me to risk things. We have had quite a few enlightening conversations, no need for me to risk those."

Hermione frowned slightly. "Harry, you're asking her to the ball. You're not asking her to marry you."

Harry snorted, and got back out of the chair. For some reason, he just couldn't sit still, and started pacing through the room. "I'm sure the Captain would be delighted to hear my question," he said. "I wonder what her reply would be if I just walked up to her, and asked, 'Tessa, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?'."

"Yes."

"See?" harry said, pointing to Tessa. "She'd say." he blinked. Once. Twice. Then his jaw fell open, and he looked at the door leading to Tessa's bedroom, staring at the girl that had opened said door and was now smiling at him. "Tessa?"

"Yes?" she repeated, smiling a bit wider at his gobsmacked expression, as well as Hermione's attempts to control her laughter.

"Where did you come from?" he asked. "I thought we were alone!"

"I was feeling a bit tired and decided to have a bit of lie-in, rather than go explore with Sousuke and Kaname," she said with an ever-widening grin when it became apparent that Harry wasn't going to come out of his shock any time soon.

"It seems you two have a lot to talk about," Hermione said, standing up, and removing the Transfiguration on the swivel chair. Grabbing hold of the _still _not-filled-in paperwork, she walked out of the room. "So I'll just leave you to it."

Harry stared at her as she walked back and left.

He heard her laughing two corridors away when he yelled after her. "TRAITOR!"

"So... Harry. You wanted to ask me something?" Tessa asked, impishly innocent.

Harry felt sweat pour down his face, chest, and back as he stared at her. "Eh... I... eh... how much... did you hear?"

Tessa remained innocent. "I'm a good girl!" she protested. "I don't eavesdrop on people!" She then smiled widely. "Of course, if said people _shout_, then it's not eavesdropping, is it? Especially when they start their conversation by throwing chairs."

Harry swallowed when the river of sweat became a torrent. "Eh... I... Captain... I... that is to say... you... "

"Draw a deep breath, it helps," Tessa counselled. Part of her wanted to let him off the hook, but a second part of her reasoned that it wanted to be asked – honestly.

Harry swallowed again, and drew in a deep breath.

This was ridiculous. He had stared down Basilisks, dragons, possessed teachers. He had faced enemy fire, he had seen death the likes of which only his brother knew.

And yet, he felt genuine, honest fear when asking a girl to the ball.

Drawing on years of experience with mortal peril, and the fear it brought, he forced his anxiety attack down. "Tessa, would you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

"Sure!" she replied immediately, smiling widely. "There. Was that so hard?" she asked immediately after.

"It was worse," Harry said, sinking into the couch, not surprised when she sat down next to him. "I haven't felt fear like that in a long time."

She chuckled slightly before dropping her head on his shoulder. "Aw, you were afraid of little me? I'm flattered."

Not knowing what to say, Harry shifted closer to her. So her head rested better on his shoulder, he told himself. It had absolutely nothing to do with how nice it felt. "You should be," he replied, honestly, not knowing what else to say.

She just chuckled.

00000 Yule Ball 00000

When the final notes fell on the opening dance, Harry dipped Tessa deeply, coming to a complete and perfect stop just as the final tone died out.

Actual applause rose from the watching crowd, even the other champions and their dates had stopped to watch as Harry and Tessa danced.

It had not been easy – Harry knew nothing about dancing, and Tessa was known to be clumsy.

Thankfully, they had access to a very good temporal-distortion Room of Requirement.

Harry lifted Tessa out of the dip, and bowed courteously. Tessa curtsied, tripped, and almost fell. Smiling gratefully at Harry for catching her, she hook her hand onto his elbow as he escorted her to a table. Or, better said, _the _table. The table for the command staff of the MOSSAD and their dates.

Rank hath its privileges.

Harry drew out a chair for Tessa, assisting her as she sat down, then took his own seat.

"Wow, Tessa. You've done wonders on Harry," Hermione complimented as she sat down, not giving Neville (who could take a hint) a chance to help her.

"Three months of etiquette training," Tessa replied. "Your Room of Requirement is fantastic. Three months of etiquette courses, dances classes, and other education, and we were gone for no more than six hours."

"It certainly seems that it has payed off," Luna said, walking up to the table, her own hand hooked onto the arm of her date.

Harry's face fell into a careful mask of chiselled granite. "Luna," Harry greeted her coolly, not saying anything.

"You must be the world's bravest man," Hermione told Ron. "I didn't think you had it in you to confront Harry after what happened last time."

Ron quailed visibly at the stare, a shudder going through his body. Luna's smile widened, before she took her wand from behind her ear, and waved it about.

'Ron' melted away to leave Dean in his place. "I merely wanted to see your reaction," Luna told Harry. "It was as funny as I thought it would be." The people present at the table laughed while Harry eyed Dean with the same distaste he usually reserved for Ron.

Dean swallowed. "I... hope you can forgive me, Sir?"

Harry lifted an eyebrow, able to see the humour in the situation. "Of course," Harry said, turning to Neville. "Perhaps now would be a good time to talk about some business. Remember that remedial course for some of our less promising members? I believe I have a volunteer to give said course." He eyed Dean, who paled.

"Eep," the boy muttered.

Again, the people laughed, While Harry's mouth quirked slightly. He was not one for outbursts of emotion. "A valuable lesson," Harry said as Luna and Dean sat down. "Never prank your superior. They may have a sense of humour, unfortunately, they don't fight fair."

Dean was able to take a joke, and chuckled. "Thank you, Sir."

Harry waved it off. "I can only hope that you will remember it for next time Luna tries to 'see my reaction'."

Luna reacted very maturely, and stuck out her tongue. "You never let me have any fun."

Harry turned to face her. "I let you have plenty of fun. How is the golden egg I gave you?"

"It was delicious," the blonde replied with a smile. "Oh, and it held a clue. They'll steal something from you, and you'll need to get it back. Things is, how the clue is worded, I think they're referring to a person, rather than an object."

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "I only cracked it this morning. I'll write a preliminary report tomorrow," Luna explained his unasked question.

As dinner appeared on the table, Hermione forced the conversation to change. "We have plenty of time to talk about work tomorrow. Let's enjoy ourselves tonight! So, Tessa, how are you enjoying your stay at Hogwarts?"

00000 Second task 00000

With the knowledge Luna had uncovered, no champion was left alone – nor were the champion's closest friends and relatives. The MOSSAD had crews protecting everyone they could get to – the people present at Hogwarts in any case.

As such, Tessa chatted amiably with Dean as he and four other students trailed around and behind her. Harry, being a champion, was in the command centre, trying to up his skills for what was to come in less than twenty-four hours.

"Miss Testarossa?" McGonagall asked, stepping from a side-alcove.

"Deputy Headmistress McGonagall," Tessa greeted back, with her friendliest smile. "How can I help you?" She then asked, diplomatically ignoring the fact that Dean and the others had gone to high alert.

"Will you join me and the Headmaster in his office, please?"

Tessa shrugged. "Of course," she agreed, walking along with McGongall to the Headmaster's office. Dean and the protective detail arrayed themselves around them, and it noticeably put McGonagall on edge.

"You have not been invited," McGonagall said angrily to the five students when they had arrived at the Headmaster's office. "So please leave."

Orders from the Major. Tessa goes nowhere alone," Dean snapped, pointing with his thumb to a female student, as if confirming _nowhere_.

"Well, she will have to go here alone," McGonagall snapped. "Now leave before I am forced to deduct points."

"Don't bother, mate," Seamus said, appearing as if by magic from one of the shadows. McGonagall actually _jumped_, her wand halfway up before catching herself. Both Dean and Seamus ignored her. "They wouldn't let me go up with Cho either."

Dean squinted. "Harry will hear of this," he promised McGonagall, as he, Seamus, and the rest of his team vanished into the shadows. The moment McGonagall and Tessa had gone up to the Headmaster's office, Dean tapped his badge.

"Thomas to central command. Tessa was just _invited _into the Headmaster's office. Please keep tabs on her."

_Already on it, Sir, _one of the first-years responded as professionally as he could. _We have Cho up there, as well as Viktor's date, and a young girl, Fleur has confirmed that it's her younger sister. _

Dean nodded, noticing that the other team leaders were 'in the shadow' as well. They all confirmed they had called in. Never assume the others would call for you. Better to call things in too many then not enough.

_Life signs unstable! _The firstie called frantically. _Sensors confirmed – they're all unconscious!_

At once, Neville's voice boomed across the channel. _Transportation, lock on and transport, directly to Command!_

_Activating, Sir! _The transportation officer snapped back. _We got them!_

Not ten seconds later, McGonagall stormed out of the Headmaster's office.

The hiding spell also hid the laughter coming from three protective details.

The following morning, Harry approached the lake, the venue of the second task, not feeling at all worried. After Tessa and the others had been saved, and brought around, they hadn't been left alone for a moment. They had not even been allowed to leave the command centre.

After all, the former Chamber of Secrets was ideal for anything anybody wanted kept secret.

When he arrive,d he was the target of a multitude of threatening glares.

"Headmaster?" Harry asked, snapping a salute and standing at attention when the man turned his ire to him.

"What happened yesterday evening to Miss Testarossa, Miss Chang, Miss Abramova, and Miss Delacour?"

Harry nodded, tapped his insignia, and said. "Potter to Transportation. It is safe, transport our refugees to my location."

_Yes Sir._

The four arrived, arrayed behind Harry. "I saved them, Sir. It appears someone tampered with their health, triggering our fail-safe, and transporting them directly to the command centre. They had since received medical treatment, and have been allowed to remain under my protection until now."

"They were perfectly safe, my boy," Dumbledore said. "However, we need them for this task, so if you young ladies would kindly follow me-"

"I do not think so," Harry replied, all traces of cordiality and respect gone from his voice. "We rescued them from your tampering yesterday. What makes you think I would release them to your mercy now?"

"Harry, my boy, the task needs-"

"The task can need everything it wants, Headmaster. I will not allow you to tamper with the lives of people close to me – or people close to people close to me. The mission statement said to return what I saught. You may take a worldly possession if you wish."

"My boy-"

"Major."

"Pardon me?"

"I address you as 'Sir' or 'Headmaster'. Please return me a similar courtesy. My name is Mr Potter. You may address me as Major. And you will comply."

Dumbledore was dumbfounded for a few moments. "I will?"

Harry nodded once. "You will."

The Headmaster sighed. "I tried."

"And lost," Harry replied.

The Headmaster waved his wand, summoning four items. Harry shrugged at the sight of his Glock appearing, as well as three other items.

As harry stepped up to the other champions, Fleur hugged him briefly. "Sank you for keeping my siester safe."

"You're welcome," Harry said with a faint smile. "Now, as we practiced. The things down there aren't human. Thus, killing them will be catalogued under 'animal cruelty'. Worst case, we are fined." his smile widened. "I am willing to pay for these fines. I want to see blood."

Dumbledore paled, as did madam Maxime. Karkaroff's eyes took on a strange glint.

"My boy-" Dumbledore tried.

"Major," Harry interrupted.

"_Major_," Dumbledore managed through gritted teeth. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I detest this task, and I detest people using people as nothing more than pawns. As such, this is extreme prejudie. You will learn to adhere to the school motto."

"Zchool motto?" Fleur asked.

"_Draconis dormiens nunquam tintillandus," _Harry replied. Adding a glance to Dumbledore, he translated, "Never tickle a sleeping dragon. The MOSSAD is the sleeping dragon. Kidnapping our loved ones is doing more than tickling it."

Dumbledore swallowed, and signalled the start of the second task.

00000 The second Task, the bloody alternative – I know how much my readers enjoy a spot of violence and bloodshed, so I wouldn't want to disappoint. 00000

Nothing had happened, and so, the bodyguards had dispersed right before curfew. Not trusting anybody, Harry slept on the couch of the VIP quarters, still sure that something was going to happen.

In the middle of the night, his instincts warned him. Something was in the room!

Keeping his eyes closed, he heard a faint shuffle. Slowly peeking through lidded eyelids, he saw nothing.

He snapped out of the couch, grabbing his wand, preparing to fire at the scuffling nothingness.

Unfortunately, it appeared that the nothingness had its wand at the ready, as the next moment, Harry saw a bright flash of red light followed by utter darkness.

When he jerked up, he was surrounded by half a dozen people, including his command staff, his brother, and Kaname. "You were stunned. Quite viciously stunned," Hermione said before he could ask questions. "Sensors indicate at least half a dozen stunners were cast at you. Apparently, you kept trying to break them. Unfortunately, the command centre isn't staffed during the night, as everyone has curfews, so we only found out this morning."

"Where's Tessa?" Harry demanded.

"Lake," Neville replied curtly, his facial expression indicating what he thought of the situation, and what he wanted to do.

Harry nodded. "Right. What's her status?"

"Asleep and under the influence of a water-breathing charm." Hermione again.

Getting to his legs, Harry made for the lake, the others practically jogging to keep up as he strode forward, his face set on 'thundercloud', and his magic sparking with electricity-like bursts through his wild and unkempt hair. Heads would roll.

When he arrived at the lake shore, the other champions had gathered already. "I see you've heard," Cedric muttered when he saw Harry's expression.

"Whatever you do, stand back," Harry muttered.

Cedric had known long enough not to question Harry's words, and would not have done so here, either. Fleur and Viktor, having only met him this year, _would _have argued, if only his expression and tone weren't so frightening.

Dumbledore, seeing Harry speak to the others, then turn to walk toward the hudges, snapped at Bagman. "Start the task!"

Ludo Bagman chose not to contradict the Headmaster of Hogwarts, wove his wand, and sounded the canon.

Harry blinked. The task had started.

Fine. Hostages first, ass-kicking later.

Sheathing his normal wand, Harry drew the black wand.

"Oh, crap," Neville said, loud enough for the others to echo the expression.

Harry lifted the wand, pointing it to the skies, and drew on his magic. Without a word being said, the skies clouded over, and magical runic circles appeared overhead. Again, harry reached to the world-well of magic, his voice starting to distort as he intoned the incantation. "Out of the forge darker than darkness."

The waters of the lake started churning, and the ground beneath their feet started to tremor. The air was thick with magic, and Harry's voice descended into madness, distorting into a totally cold parody of technology. "With the steel forged by the hammer of science!"

A golden glow surrounded him, as black lightning shot up from the lake, as a precursor to the black ball of utter nothingness that pushed the waters aside, slowly drifitng over to the shore, and depositing the four hostages.

Dropping the wand and drawing a breath, Harry released his control over the spell, allowing the magic to wash out over the crowd and the judges, before dispelling back into the world from where ti came. The skies cleared and the ground shoped shaking.

"You actually bent space and time and gravity," Hermione muttered as she started casting spells at the unconscious quartet, while Susan started working to revive them.

But still the crowd held its breath, as Harry was not yet done. With blood runing from his nose and ear from the pressure of the magic he had cast, he strode up to the judges table.

"You have broken my word. I gave my word that she would be safe, and you have broken it," Harry told Dumbledore. Waving his regular wand and hiding the wince at the sharp jab of pain the magic cost, he conjured a sword. "You will do the honourable thing, and fall onto this to erase this blemish."

"My boy, they were never in any danger! Surely you understand-"

"I understand you attacked me. Or had me attacked, same difference. I understand you kidnapped a person whose safety I personally guaranteed. I trusted you and you abused that trust." He thrusted the sword under Dumbledore's nose. "_Sepuku_. Or I will not be appeased, and kill you myself."

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "Really, Harry, I doubt that even you, with all your vaunted talents-"

"_Accio _Dumbledore's wand," Harry snapped out, smirking when Dumbledore's face turned deathly pale when Harry's fingers closer around the polished wood, letting the conjured sword clatter to the table.

The next moment, Harry looked at the wand with a stunned look on his face, when he felt just how powerful it was. "This is no ordinary wand," Harry muttered, a grin forming. "So _THAT _is where your power came from." he sheathed his normal wand, and took the Elder Wand into his right hand. "I am going to enjoy this." Looking deep into Dumbledore's no-longer-twinkling eyes, he declared, "MOSSAD. Search and Destroy. I have this one."


	10. Shuttle 7 Phoenix Empress

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft seven: Phoenix Empress**

-

Main Universe: Avatar, the Last Airbender

Crossovers: Naruto

Timeframe: AU, battle between Azula and Aang at Crystal Catacombs, Naruto: Uchiha Massacre

Last updated: 10th January 2010

-

As Aang started to rise into the air, his eyes and tattoos glowing with the expended power of the Avatar State, Azula grinned maliciously at his back. It took her less than one second to charge the lightning strike at the Avatar's back.

The power in the air felt electric as her malicious grin widened at the sight of the Avatar plummeting to the ground, his Avatar State shattered.

However, the energy needed a conduit, a target, an action, anythingat all to expend itself, and the conclusion was only logical, that it reached for the one who had broken its uninterrupted chain, the one who had caused its Avatar to fall.

And so, the shocked onlookers got a second shock, as the victorious Princess Azula, rather than smile with victory, screamed with pain as the Avatar State's energies ripped into her. The world trembled, the air quivered, and it seemed that the very reality around the screaming Princess... blurred.

The next moment, she was gone.

When Azula finally felt the pain leave her, she just remained where she had fallen, panting deeply, relishing in the absence of it. Slowly, her heart rate normalized, and her lungs no longer burned in starvation of oxygen.

Slowly, the Princess Royal of the Fire Nation blinked her chocolate eyes open, taking in her new surroundings.

She was in a forest, the likes of which she had not yet seen in her travels across the world. The trees were huge, the plants were equally large, and the skies were darkened by the deep green canopy of dense tree-crowns.

"Where the hell am I?" she demanded loudly.

Well, as loudly as she could with a voice that was hoarse and cracked from screaming in pain. Slowly, she pushed herself to her protesting legs, remaining upright just long enough to fall and lean against the nearest giant tree.

For five long minutes the princess remained as such, leaning against the tree, panting with the effort as she tried to work strength back into her battered body.

Limping away, leaning on a large branch she picked off the ground, Azula went in search of civilization.

Half an hour later, Azula was at the top of a tower, apparently located in the middle of this strange forest. Thankfully, she could look out over it, to its very edges, from her high vantage point.

Starting a fire took only a little effort for the Fire-bending princess. Cooking the large-than-life snake she had killed took considerably more effort.

00000 Finding out what's going on 00000

Azula looked at the village in the distance.

One thing she had learned in the few days she had spent recuperating in the dilapidated tower in the middle of the forest; she was no longer in any of the nations she knew. The fores was too strange, the animals too large. There were signs of battle and fighting, results of techniques that were far powerful than even her strongest fire-bending.

And that, more than anything, terrified her.

Not that she would give any outward signs of it, of course. She was Azula, the Princess Royal of the Fire Nation. Some spooky trees, giant animals, and signs of major battles weren't about to crack her tough exterior.

Slowly, she lowered herself from the tree she had used as a vantage point. At one time, she would have just walked up to the gates and demanded entrance, trusting her royal status to swing the way.

However, this was not her world.

And as such, some quiet observation was called for. Arrogant though she may be, Azula was far from stupid. She knew very well that she was alone, and no mythical status of a country that may or may not exist wherever this was would protect her.

Wiping down the clothes she was still wearing, she set out for the gates. She hated the fact that she could not change her wardrobe. No matter the fact that she had to hunt for food, or squat in an abandoned tower in the middle of the forest, but no girl anywhere should be forced to wear the same clothes three days in a row – even if there was plenty of water in the forest to wash her clothes with.

She found it quite easy to gain entrance, her high-class wardrobe seemed to be enough, and only her name was recorded upon passing the gates.

Good, she was in the village.

Bad, she had no money. Who had ever heard of 'ryo'? And she absolutely, positively, resolutely refused to sell any of the jewelry she was still wearing.

She spent the remainder of the day wandering the village, taking in the sights and sounds and smells of human civilization.

At least the people here were of comparable level to the ones back home, wherever back home was.

When night fell, she found herself with a logistical problem. The gates had been closed, and she had no way to return to the forest that she had called 'home' for these last few days.

Wandering the village after dark gave her a whole new appreciation for the strange place, and she saw and heard everything.

After all, Azula was a genius fire bender, the best the Royal Colleges of the fire Nation could produce, as sharp with word and thought as she was with fist and fire. When she passed a huge encompassed compound, she stopped, and frowned.

The sounds coming from behind the gates were familiar.

The sounds of battle, the screams of dying and wounded men. And women. And children.

Azula's grin turned positively malicious, and she stared at the gates. Whomever was fighting behind these gates, they were killing people. If she could get in, she might either be able to help the perpetrator, and blackmail them into helping her. Or, she might help the victims, and guilt them into helping her.

Then she realized that helping people wan't in her genetic makeup. She was Azula, Princess Royal. She did not do charity.

And so, she climbed a tree, and saw a fourteen-year-old kill off a dozen warriors that rushed him.

A very frightening fourteen-year-old, Azula admitted. He made handsigns that produced fireballs that were bigger than anything she could produce with fire-bending. He moved like the wind, and struck like the earth, strong, fast, powerful, and incredibly flexible, able to dodge strikes aimed at his blind spots.

It was like watching ballet.

Making her decision, Azula jumped form the tree, moving with her acrobatics through the air, fire trailed her feet as she kicked at a warrior that was attempting to blindside the young man.

Her fire-enhanced kick struck him in mid-chest, breaking every rib, and jamming them through his heart and lungs. The man died instantly. Before she could emerge from her landing crouch, she was held at knife-point by the person she had just 'assisted' – only to get another shock.

His eyes were the bloodiest red she had ever seen.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Azula though it best not to reveal her background. Not if she wanted credibility. "Azula. And you?" she demanded, glad that these people spoke Japanese like everybody else.

"Itachi," he replied, obviously startled that she was not afraid of him. "Why did you help me?"

She shrugged. "Looked like a fun way to spend an evening."

He blinked. "Indeed," he finally answered. "Why did you want to kill the Uchiha clan?"

She shrugged again. "Like I said, it looked like a fun way to spend an evening. I'm not from around here, was walking by, heard the commotion, saw you swamped with guys, and decided to lend a hand."

"I did not need assistance."

"I didn't say you did," Azula semi-snapped, her patience wearing thing.

"Fine," Itachi said, throwing the knife he held at her throat to one of the surrounding shadows. A scream sounded, before tapering off in the gurgle of a dying man.

She stared at him with open mouth. "How did you do that?"

"The Sharingan lets me see," Itachi declared.

She blinked. "Sharingan?"

Now it was his turn to blink. "You really aren't from around here, are you?"

"I thought we established that," Azula said sarcastically.

"The eyes," Itachi said. "The eyes of the Uchiha clan. They let us see, and they let us copy what we see." He cocked his head and looked at her. "And that move you used was not something I could copy. It is... unsettling."

She smirked. Looks like she had something to offer after all. "How about this. I tag along with you, and in return, I'll teach you fire-bending."

"Deal," Itachi delacred. "Next Uchiha you see with an activated Sharingan, rip their eyes out. I'll implant them into you when we're clear."

She opened her mouth, stared for a few seconds, ignoring the fact they were in the middle of a battlefield. "That easy?"

"When you're an Uchiha, yes," Itachi said, a cold smirk appearing on his features.

00000 on the road 00000

They had been out of Konoha for a few days now, just traveling Itachi-knows-where. He still refused to share that particular secret.

Azula had learned quite a bit from the usually silent Uchiha. The warriors in this universe were called ninjas, apparently, and they used something called Chakra to make their more elaborate techniques happen.

And it took hand signs.

Azula had almost started laughing. Her Fire Bending was nowhere near as powerful – but all she had to do was slap him to land a hit.

Of course, he could use Chakra to enhance the speed and strength of his body, so it evened out eventually, but not before she clocked him a good one a couple of times. He had also implanted the Sharingan eyes they had stolen, and she had been deftly copying everything she could from him during their matches. It left her exhausted afterwards, but she reveled in the feeling of gaining speed and strength and power at rates that were unmatched.

During one of their sparring matches, Azula finally decided to show Itachi that it wouldn't do to keep attacking her with his clan's fire techniques.

As he shot a humongous fireball at her, larger than she could ever hope to achieve using Fire Bending, she spread her legs into the receptive stance of Fire Bending style, the same way she would stand to redirect lightning.

Both her hand thrust out, and she closed her eyes in concentration as she took his chakra-enhanced fireball, gained control over it, and bent it, controlled it, diverted it round her. At the same time she flung it around her, she infused her own power into it.

Azula was the Princess of the Fire Nation, one of the strongest Fire Benders in existence. As her abilities gained mastery of the fireball, the red-yellow fire started to shrink, compressing in on itself.

Halfway around her, the ball was less than half its original size, and the ground beneath her feet cracked with the pressure. It turned from yellow-red to bright white-blue, indicating the sharp rise in temperature. Diverting its course even further, all the way around her, she flung the new standard-sized azure-white fireball back to its source, less than half a second after she initially caught it.

Itachi's Sharingan eyes widened comically as he dove out of the way. The fire raced through the air, reaching a tree, and exploding.

"I suggest you stop using fire against me, Itachi. It is insulting to think that you could harm me using my own element. I am Azula, Mistress of Fire," she stated regally, every bit the Princess she was.

Itachi just nodded, got up, dusted himself off, and let a faint smirk grace his lips. "No fire, then," he said. "Let's see you match this."

Azula activated her own Sharingan eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the world snapping into hyper-focus. She wasn't about to let this upstart upstage her.

She was, after all, a princess.

Not five minutes later, she was flat on her back, staring at the skies. Itachi's impassive face appeared in her sight, staring down at her.

"You will teach me that," she ordered.

Itachi lifted an eyebrow, thinking about it. Finally, he bowed slightly. "As you wish... princess."

00000 Akatsuki, Orochimaru, and return to Konoha 00000

"That man is a freak," Azula stated to Itachi, drawing the black-with-red-clouds cloak tighter around her. The Akatsuki cave was cold.

Itachi just shrugged, and remained silent.

"He is!" Azula raged on.

Itachi almost-sighed, yet contained himself. He had soon found out that Azula was a genius at using the Sharingan, and was picking up on Genjutsu at an incredible pace – especially since she was able to copy anything and everything he did using it. Sighing at her had become a perilous enterprise, and he knew better than to antagonize her, lest he be in for a world of hurt.

"While I admit Orochimaru is... unusual, even among ninja, he is the preeminent authority on bloodlines," he finally replied. "And I, for one, counsel to accept the offer."

"All we need is a pair of Hyuuga eyes," Azula muttered, looking at him.

"I don't have any," he said after nearly five minutes of her staring unblinkingly at him. "So stop looking at me."

"But you know where to get some," the Fire Princess said.

"Konoha," Itachi replied with a shrug. "And I doubt I am welcome there."

"But they don't know me," Azula said, her smile widening into madness. "And with you under a powerful illusion..."

Itachi sighed. "I feel no great need to return."

She turned to face him once more, and stared blankly at him.

This time, he did sigh. "But feelings can change," he muttered.

"Good boy," Azula said, patting him on the head. "Now, what is the fastest way back to Konoha, and where do we find a perfectly fine pair of Hyuuga eyes?"

Itachi pointed in a certain direction. "Straight that way, and I suspect that the Hyuuga compound should have some Hyuuga running around. I suggest kidnapping one – that way, we don't need to take special precautions to transport the eyes."

Azula gave him a blank look once more. "Nobody likes a smartass."

"Sorry, princess," he replied, actually sounding contrite.

"I will make a decent retainer out of you," she said. "Especially since you taught me to make black fire."

He shuddered. Azula could make Amaterasu without using the Sharingan. Her Fire Bending bloodline truly was frightening. No wonder Orochimaru had offered to implant an extra set of Hyuuga eyes to 'assist' Azula, if only to get a look at the bloodline she carried.

Itachi resisted the urge to shudder again. A Fire Bending Azula with Sharingan and Byakugan would be a truly formidable opponent.

Even more formidable than she already was.

Damn that woman for ever laying her greedy hands on the Sharingan, and getting him to implant them.

He blinked. She was staring at him again.

"Itachi..." she growled.

"Princess?" he asked, trying to sound blank.

"You're thinking bad thoughts again, aren't you?"

He shook his head. "No, Princess."

"Yes, you are. Your left eye is twitching."

"I'm sorry, Princess." What could he say? She was really, really frightening.

"Fine," she finally relented, looking away, and pretending to ignore the relieved sigh escaping his lips. "Next time we spar, I will remember. Right now, we need to go to Konoha and get ourselves a Hyuuga."

"The main house Heiress could work. She's only six, her eyes have not matured yet, so they're probably easier to implant," Itachi offered, trying to buy his way out of trouble.

"And easier to steal, too, no doubt," Azula said with a faint grin, letting him know she had looked through his charade. He almost-sighed. How it was that she was better at politics than him, he'd probably never know.

00000 Some fun with Hinata and Orochimaru 00000

"How long will this take?" Azula asked, watching as Orochimaru bustled about.

The Snake Sannin shrugged. "You brought me a perfect specimen – untrained eyes, and unsealed. I won't need to break that damn Caged Bird Seal in order to get to the eyes, and the girl is untrained, so she won't resist – much. It's a mere case of getting the eyes out and transplanting them into you." He looked at the Fire Princess. "I'd suggest implanting them at the back of your head. Byakugan eyes can look through walls, some hair shouldn't be a problem. Plus, it has a 360-degree view, so can help you even with you're fighting face-to-face."

Azula looked at the Snake Sannin as if he were more insane than she originally thought. "Back of my head?" she finally asked.

He nodded. "It's not much effort to generate extra eye-sockets using Chakra."

Azula blinked, turned, and grinned at Itachi – who felt like cowering under a table and sucking his thumb at the grin she was sporting. "I LIKE this world!"

"I am glad you like it, Princess," Itachi said, somehow managing to sound calm.

"How painful will this be for the brat?" Azula asked, glancing at the Hyuuga heiress, tied spread-eagle to a table.

"Getting weak?" Orochimaru asked, cackling insanely as he continued his preparations.

"Not really, just wanted to know if I could enjoy a nice show or not."

Orochimaru cackled again. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Azula-chan!"

"Don't call me that."

"Oh? Please, make me," Orochimaru said, still grinning like a loon and adding an insane cackle for good masure.

"Not until you've implanted those eyes – I am not an idiot," she declared, making his cackle again.

"Remember what we promised, you will let me study your bloodline!"

"I will remember," Azula said. She walked over to the petrified little girl, patted her dark hair. "Will she survive? Having a blind chambermaid could be useful." She bent down, and licked the girl's forehead. "Plus, she tastes really nice."

Orochimaru shrugged. "If you want, I can keep her alive," he replied, not at all disturbed by either comment. He was a ninja, he had heard of worse things.

Hinata whimpered loudly through her gag.

"Hush, baby," Azula crooned. "It'll all be over soon, and you'll live long and happy, knowing that your eyes are now assisting the world's greatest ruler."

Hinata pulled weakly at the bonds, then whimpered again, pitifully shaking her head.

"We should have gotten her baby sister as well," Azula said, making Hinata's eyes grow even wider. "Than we'd have a pair for you, too, Itachi."

Itachi resisted the urge to throw up his hands and declare that he wasn't about to become a freak, but managed to contain himself. "Thank you for the consideration, Princess, but I am... pleased... just the way I am."

Azula shrugged. "Your loss." She looked at Orochimaru, who was standing next to her, grinning widely. Azula petted Hinata's hair once more. "Come, baby – I need an extra pair of eyes." She looked at Orochimaru. "Make her scream. I want some entertainment. Just don't permanently injure her – beyond taking her eyes, of course."

Orochimaru cackled. "If I weren't so sure you'd turn me down, I'd ask you to marry me," he declared, creating a chakra scalpel.

Azula shuddered as she lied down on the second table. Being married to Orochimaru would be worse than being married to that goodie-two-shoes bastard of an Aang. She relaxed slightly. With the mind-tricks Itachi had taught her, the Avatar wouldn't stand chance.

She wondered how Aang would get on with a blind Hinata, and she wondered what kind of children she could breed out of the pair, once Hinata had matured a bit more. Byakugan-equipped elemental masters? Could be an interesting way to build herself an invincible army.

Nodding to herself, Azula decided it would be a worthy experiment to conduct. Only problem was, how to get back home?


	11. Shuttle 8 Harry Potter and The Children

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft eight: Harry Potter and The Children**

Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: Zettai Karen Children

Timeframe: Year Six, summer

Last updated: 1 May 2010

**Author's notes: I'm toying with the idea of making this a full fic, almost like 'The Mission' was a full fic. As of right now, all I have are a few scenes in my head that may or may not work in a coherent story setting.**

00000 Summer after Year Five 0000

Harry Potter agitatedly paced paced up and down the smallest bedroom at number Four, Privet Drive, Surrey. It had been three weeks. Three weeks since that disaster at the Department of Mysteries.

Three weeks since his godfather died.

Three weeks since Dumbledore lied the biggest responsibility of the British Wizarding World on his shoulders.

It had also been three weeks since he last heard from his friends.

Hermione Granger – four letters, no answer.

Ron and Ginny Weasley – three letters, ditto.

Luna Lovegood was in Sweden – she had been the only one to tell him of her summer plans beforehand.

Yesterday, out of sheer desperation, he had sent his owl, Hedwig, with a missive to Neville Longbottom. She did not return.

Either Neville had kept her, or someone had intercepted her. In any case, he shouldn't expect an answer from Neville either. His fist hit the wall hard enough to leave an indentation in the brickwork. For a few seconds, Harry stared at the results of his temper, unable to believe himself capable of generating sufficient physical force to dent a wall.

Just as he was about to dismiss it as a bout of accidental magic, his uncle threw open the door, his face raging purple. "You ungrateful freak! Just what are you doing, punching the walls!"

Harry looked up from his fist to his uncle. The big man, towering over Harry in height, and at least three times his weight, recognizing something in his nephew's eyes. Something... primal.

Without a single infliction in his voice, Harry said, "My apologies Uncle. It will not happen again."

Maybe it was the voice, devoid of emotions. Maybe it was his expressionless green eyes. Maybe it was the fact that he was still holding up the fist that had been used to punch an indentation into the wall, and the fact that said fist had not a single mark on it. But, whatever it was, Uncle Vernon nodded, and walked out, not saying a word.

"I'm tired of this country," Harry muttered to himself, opened his trunk, picked out parchment and quill, and started to write.

_To whom it may concern,_

_That means – all you nosy bastards that are breaking into this room to find this message,_

_I am tired of Great Britain. I am tired of the press hounding me and declaring me the antichrist. I am tired of the Ministry trying to kill me. I am tired of Hogwarts, the supposedly 'safest place in the world', where I have to risk my life each and every year. _

_And above all, I am tired of my backstabbing friends. Once more they did not care enough to get into contact with me, regardless of the messages I sent out. _

_The only exception would be Luna Lovegood. I am certain she would have written back – had she not been in Sweden. Luna, if the bastards that break into this room find this message and convey this to you, you are always welcome to come and find me. My door will be always open to you – and only you._

_To everybody else, have fun with Voldemort. I am out of here._

_Signed,_

_Harry James Potter._

He folded the parchment, made his bed, and placed the folded parchment on top of the covers.

He dragged his trunk to where he had a little room, picked up his wand, and grabbed it with both hands. He didn't know _what_ he was going to do, but he was _sure_ that he was going to get away from here. Third year had shown him not to try the Knight Bus, and Diagon Alley was probably crawling with bugs – or Order members. Same difference.

Had Harry gone to his sixth year at Hogwarts, he would have learned to Apparate, and the three D's required for it to be successful.

_Deliberation_ – Harry had thought about his present course of action, and he was sure about it.

_Determination_ – Harry was really, _really_ sure about his present course of action.

_Destination_ – well... two of three wasn't bad.

And so it was that Harry forced magic through himself and his wand, Apparating without a set destination in mind. As he vanished from his bedroom, a number of things happened.

First, as Harry vanished and made sure to never call the place home again, the Blood Wards around number four, Privet Drive, collapsed.

Second, at Hogwarts, a number of very sensitive instruments melted due to the sheer overload of Harry's magic force-apparating through solid Blood Wards.

Third, a similar ward, training on Harry by Voldemort, reported the boy missing from Great Britain, and the fact that the Blood Wards had collapsed.

Fourth, at the Ministry of Magic, a bunch of detectors used to monitor the usage of magic by underage witches and wizards... did absolutely nothing. Apparition was after all, not a spell one could cast in a traditional sense.

Harry reappeared somewhere else, half-crouched, in a perfectly circular patch of blackened grass.

Wherever he was, it was night out – which meant that he could be on the other side of the planet. The moon was solid, providing ample light to see by, and he shook his head as he stepped out of the patch of black grass. His trunk had come with him, and Harry waved his wand. It shrunk, and he put it in his pocket. Wherever this was, it seemed far enough away to provide ample problems for those tracking him.

Back in Britain, the Ministry of Magic detected absolutely nothing, sheer distance making their Trace inoperative.

As Harry walked away, he emerged from a park, and his mouth sagged open.

For a few moments, he had hoped to have emerged somewhere in an English-speaking nation.

Unfortunately, judging from the oriental look on people's faces, and the strangle crawls on the signs and buildings, he appeared to be somewhere in Asia. Being a sheltered English lad, Harry had no idea on how to decipher the strange scrawls.

First things first, he'd need to find food, and shelter.

Hm – first roadblock. He hadn't taken the time to bring money with him. Maybe he could find a magical alley with a local Gringott's branch. He looked up at the tall buildings with the messy identification writings. But then again, even if he did find a magical alley, how was he going to make them understand him? Or get some money?

A few days later, Harry was walking through one of the large shopping centers. It was actually taking up an entire skyscraper by itself, and Harry was dutifully impressed by it.

In the last few days, he had solved a few of his problems. That first night, he had just walked around, too hyped on his freedom and hampered by apparition-lag to feel sleepy. When the stores opened the next day, a tourist information center had shown him his location – Tokyo, Japan. That was the first problem out of the way.

Getting money hadn't been that hard either – like every major city, Tokyo had its fair share of criminal problems. All it took was a few well-placed _stupefy_ spells, and Harry could steal from the thieves. That money had come in handy to get a roof over his head for a few days, and a hot meal in his belly. Stealing from criminals posed no problem for Harry's conscience.

After leaving the shopping center without buying anything – he had very limited funds after all, he decided on yet another stroll through the city. He'd never been to a truly large city before, and the experience of finally being in one made him want to enjoy every minute of it.

As he wandered around aimlessly – a point-me charm would help him out if he got lost – he looked up when a helicopter flew overhead, at very low altitude. He frowned, wondering why a helicopter was allowed to fly overhead at such low altitude, especially over a city that had high-rise buildings that could be hit.

He shrugged, and decided to forget about it. He was on vacation. It wasn't his problem.

A bunch of police cars raced by.

Now not only confused, but also quite intrigued, Harry walked in the direction the police cars had taken. Five minutes later, he came across a battlefield. The area had been cordoned off by the police, but a few _confundus_ charms took care of that. After that charm screwed him over in fourth year, he had vowed to learn it. After all, if it could confuse the heck out of the Goblet of Fire, it could do the same to humans.

The helicopter was circling overhead, and Harry threw a look up at it, before focusing back to the battle.

It was the most unusual battle Harry had ever seen in broad daylight. He had seen some impressive shit in the Department of Mysteries three weeks ago, when Dumbledore and Voldemort duked it out.

This battle was practically on the same level. Unfortunately, he didn't understand a word of what was being shouted by the combatants, but the results themselves were impressive to Harry, who was grinning, and enjoying seeing someone _else_ do the fighting for once.

On one team were a group of twelve-or-so-year-old girls. On the second team there appeared to be a few grown-ups. All of them were throwing shit at each other. The redhead on the first team seemed content to clobber people with what appeared to be balls of air – Harry could see her throwing her hand, and the next moment, something invisible smashed into her target. The second girl, this one with black hair, provided some sort of mobility service, as she waved her hands, and teleported herself – or her team-members, all over the place. Harry practically cheered when she teleported her friend out of the way of a beam of some sort of electric energy being thrown by one of the attackers.

The third girl, this one with silver-gray hair, had one hand on the floor, and she kept jabbering on in Japanese to her team-mates. He had no clue what to make of her.

The two adults they were fighting seemed intent on doing serious bodily harm to the three girls, but Harry had the impression that none of them would let that happen. He watched the action for a few moments, before something caught the edge of his vision. Blinking, he looked up, and saw someone taking aim with a sniper rifle from the nearby rooftop. It had been a chance reflection of sunlight on the scope that had drawn Harry's attention.

The battle was progressing nicely, and the girls had their opponents pinned down, before the redhead clobbered them into submission, but none of them had noticed the sniper yet. Harry sighed. _There goes the Stature of Secrecy,_ he thought silent as he drew his wand, took aim at the sniper, and squinted. This was a bit further than he was used to.

He was about to _stupefy_ the man when he thought back to the Triwizard Tournament, and grinned. "_Accio_ bastard!" he shouted, drawing the attention of the trio of girls. The confounded police heard his voice, but had trouble focusing on it – or him. The sniper screamed as he was torn through the air, still clutching his sniper rifle. In mid-flight, Harry snapped out, "_Petrificus Totalus_!" the man froze stiff as a board, his hands freezing around the rifle as he flew thorugh the air, crashing to the floor in front of Harry. "_Stupefy_," he finally declared, stunning the man.

As he looked up, he was staring directly into the angry faces of the three girls – who were _hovering_ at his eye-level not more than half a a meter from his face. "Eh... H," Harry said, smiling as disarmingly as he could. He pointed to the stunned, petrified, bruised man. "He was about to shoot you."

The redheaded spokesperson jabbered at him in Japanese. "Eh... I'm sorry, but I don't speak Japanese," Harry said, feeling self-conscious about it. He pointed to the man again. "Him," he said, before making a gun with his fingers. "_Bang_," he intoned, and pointed to the redhead. "You."

She seemed to understand what he was saying, as her look turned decidedly less hostile, and she jabbered at him again. He shrugged helplessly. "Sorry," he said. The girl sighed, and pointed to herself.

"Kaoru," she said, before pointing to the girl on her right, the one with the black hair. "Aoi," she said, before moving her finger to the girl on her left, the one with the silver hair. "Shiho," she said, before pointing at him.

This time, it was Harry to understand sign-language. "Ah," he ah-ed. "Harry," he said, pointing to himself. Decided that he may as well be friendly to the local mages – even if they didn't use wands, he held out his hand. "Hello, Kaoru," he said, thinking that it would go over better if he used a simple word that didn't sound threatening in the least."

The girl eyed him. Finally, she seemed to catch his intention, and hesitatingly slipped her hand in his. "Hi Harree," she said as he shook their hands.

He then held out his hand to Aoi. "Hello Aoi." Seeing no harm done to her friend, Aoi didn't hesitate to shake his hand. "Hi Harree," she said. For a moment, Harry dwelled on whether 'hi' was the only English word these girls knew, before he held out his hand to Shiho.

"Hello Shiho," he said. The third girl eyed him strangely, then said something. "Eh... sorry?" Harry said, not understanding, although hr tone made it sound as if she were warning him about something. Finally, she took his hand.

"Hi Harree," she greeted. Strangely enough, as reluctant as she seemed to have been, Shiho seemed even more reluctant to let go of his hand. Deciding on not being rude, he let her hold on to his hand. Besides, he preferred girls to hold his hand rather than curse him. The girl snapped her head up and looked at him. It seemed as if her eyes were looking straight into his soul.

The helicopter had finally managed to find a spot to land, and a twenty-something guy jumped out of it and was racing in their direction. The redhead, Kaoru, immediately started jabbering at the guy, and pointing at Harry, who was still having his hand held by Shiho, who appeared entranced by something as she stared at his hand. It made him feel a bit uncomfortable – or all he was, Harry didn't have any experience with strange girls wanting to hold his hand.

But then again, having someone hold his hand seemed pretty comfortable, so he may as well go with the flow.

The man Kaoru had been jabbering to walked over to Harry. "Hi. I am Koichi Minamoto," the man introduced himself."

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said. "i'd offr my hand, but someone seems to have taken a liking to it," he added, looking at where Shiho was still holding his hand. The girl seemed to realize what she had been doing, blushed fiercely, and look go of him, muttering something that was either an apology or a defense. As it was Japanese, he didn't understand a word. Holding out his hand to Koichi, Harry said, "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," the man replied, his English reasonably accented but quite understandable. "I hear you intervened in the fight?"

Harry shrugged. "I was watching what was happening. They seemed to have everything under control, so I wasn't worried," he explained. "But then the sun reflected off of this guy's rifle – and if there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who try to shoot other people in the back. So I summoned him, petrified him, then stunned him."

"You have an unsual set of skills for an esper," Koichi muttered. "Would you mind coming with us? We always want to know more about unusual abilities."

Somewhere in the explanation, Harry's neck-hairs started to rise. "Eh... is this a friendly invite, or something along the lines of 'I'll make you an offer you can't refuse'?" he asked.

Koichi blinked, then laughed. "Oh, it's decidedly friendly, believe me!"

"Maybe you could tell me who 'we' is, and where I'd be going?" Harry asked. Despite the fact the guy seemed friendly, Harry had learned not to trust.

"We're from .E.L., the Base for Backing ESP Laboratory, we research ESP abilities, and you seem to have some strange ones," the man replied.

"I'm not using ESP," Harry replied. "I use magic." He looked around, seemingly realizing for the first time that he was in a public setting still, and that he _had_ blown the Statute of Secrecy. He, Harry Potter, rather than the others, he now realized. "But perhaps we should take this somewhere private. This isn't something we should discuss in a public street."

Koichi nodded, and walked with Harry to the helicopters. The three girls vanished. When Harry finally climbed inside, the trio were already there. Harry shook his head, unable to help but feel a little jealous of the teleportation skills.

Not ten minutes later, they had landed at one of the largest skyscraper towers Harry had ever seen – not that he had seen many, but still. They were quietly and fastidiously whisked off to a giant office. A large man raced towards them, his arms outstretched and laughing wildly. Aftr grabbing the three girls, he moved for Harry, who didn't really know how to react, and so, remaining still.

The giant hulk of a man grabbed Harry, jabbering in Japanese all the way, patting the confused boy on the back and holding him in what was a combination bear hug/handshake.

When Koichi said something, the man switched to English, not interrupting what he had been saying. "- for saving The Children, they are our nation's treasures!"

Gathering that the man had been thanking him, Harry replied confusedly, "You're welcome, Sir."

"Sir?" The man said, pointing to Harry, "He called me 'Sir'!" he repeated, sounding right chuffed about it, too. "Come on, tell us about yourself!"

"... eh," Harry said eloquently. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter," he said. "I use magic, which seems to be something different than what you're used to, if I understood Koichi correctly."

"Magic, you say?" the big man said.

"I'm sure that it's just a very obscure version of ESP, Chief," Koichi said. "So far, I haven't seen anything that doesn't conform to combination ESP powers."

Harry pulled his wand. "Let me see if I can demonstrate," he said, and pointed at the desk. Transfiguring it into a pig took quite a bit of effort, but he managed – and he grinned especially as the animal squealed while racing around the office. He returned the pig to a desk a few moments later.

"I've seen people change my gun for a watergun," Koichi reminded everyone.

"That's done using teleportation," the Chief commented. "This is obviously something else, this entire building has ESP Counter-Measures, and it takes someone like The Children to cut through it."

"I'm still in school, though," Harry said. _Or supposed to be be, anyway,_ he added quietly. "I don't want to be rude, but I should figure out where I'm going to stay tonight. A bit of a financial mishap, i'm afraid."

"Nonsense!" the Chief said immediately. "I'll have a room prepared for you right here! It's the least we can do for someone who saved our nation's national treasures!"

As the man rushed to his phone, and finding it disconnected after Harry's stint of transfiguring the desk, he grabbed a cell phone and started jaberring into it, making big movements as he did so and speaking with large animo.

Harry caught the strange looks the three girls were giving him. Harry smiled, then looked at the Chief and back at them with a confused look. They seemed to get what he was saying, as they rolled their eyes, before looking a bit embarrassed.

"I've also arranged for books on magic," the Chief said. "So you have something to read while you're staying here."

Harry blinked. Five minutes ago, the man hadn't even known magic existed. How was he supposed to arrange for books on the subject? "Eh... thank you, Sir."

"'Sir' again!" the man shouted, grabbing Harry in another bear hug. "He's so polite!"

Harry just resigned himself. The less he resisted the sooner the man would release him. He hoped. He made eye-contact with the girls. They grinned, obviously happy that the man was focusing his attentions elsewhere.

The next morning, Harry found himself stretching like a lazy cat when he woke up. The luxurious quarters he had been shown to were better than anything he had ever experienced, and that included the magically enhanced beds at Hogwarts. Must be something about the high-tech approach, coupled to the privacy aspect, something that seemed to have been totally forgotten at Hogwarts.

He got up, went to the en-suite bathroom, and did his morning business. When he went to dress himself in the rather castoff clothes he had been wearing for a while, he found instead that the closets were filled with a wardrobe tailored to his size.

A rather paranoid tought nestled in Harry's mind – where had they gotten his size, and where had they found the time to make all these clothes? He dressed himself in the most comfortable-looking clohtes he found. No sense in looking a gift horse in the mouth unless it was about to bite you, after all.

As he left the room, he was immediately intercepted by the chief. "Good morning, Harry!" the man boomed. "I see you found your new clothes. I'm sorry we couldn't get anything tailer-made, but I placed an emergence order for some off-the-shelf clothes for you to be shipped in overnight."

Harry stared at the man. _Okay, so that explains the clothes..._ "Thank you, Sir. They're great!"

"The man made a grab for him, but Harry had learned yesterday, and darted away, making him miss. "You're turning as cold as The Children," he complained, before another smile appeared on his face. "Would you like some breakfast before we go see the books on magic I managed to get?"

_Already?_ Harry though. "Already, Sir? I just told you about it yesterday..."

The chief waved it off. "You saved The Children. I have a virtually unlimited budget – when it comes to the safety of this nation, and the happiness of our national treasures, I will move heaven and earth!" By the time he finished, he had one fist lifted into the air, striking a pose like an action hero from a movie about to go off to a heroic death.

Harry blinked. "Thank you, Sir," he finally said, sounding just a tad unsure about the nuthouse he had seemed to find himself in _this_ time. At least _this_ nuthouse wanted to give him things, not kill him. Which was a step up, so he decided to go along with it for now.

00000 later that day 00000

Harry looked up from the -very interesting – book he had been reading. When the Chief said he had 'some' books on magic, Harry had expected two or three, no more than five.

Instead, he had been shown to a room that would rival Hogwart's vaunted library, filled with entire _crates_ full of books.

The Chief had not answered when Harry asked where the books came from, and quite frankly, after a few moments, Harry was sure he didn't _want to know_.

And so, he spent the day, going through the crates. They were labeled, quite helpfully, with the various disciplines of books that were contained in them.

Ignoring the three crates labeled 'potions', he went for the one, big, black, foreboding crate labeled 'lost, forbidden, dangerous, and magic that should not be used'. Harry shook his head when he noticed the 'this side up' label pointing to the floor.

Shrugging, he had taken the crowbar and gone to work, which is how he was found, an hour before dinner time, by Koichi Minamoto and the three girls he had saved yesterday. He smiled up at them when they stepped into his light, catching his attention.

The redhead, Kaoru, he remembered, said something. Harry smiled faintly, and shrugged. "Sorry, I _still_ don't speak Japanese." The girl huffed slightly, then grinned, and pointed to the book, then to him.

"Oh," Harry said, grin widening. He marked the page, closed the book, and shook his head. "I'm not usually a bookworm," he said, sure that she didn't understand him. Unfortunately, Koichi decided to translate his comment.

"You're ruining our fun," Harry complained to the man. Kaoru grinned, and said something in Japanese that sounded like she were saying the same thing. The three girls shared a grin with him.

"I've been trying to find a spell to learn Japanese," Harry said to Koichi. "Unfortunately, thee don't seem to be any translation spells." He motioned for the book. "There are spells to speed up learning, but I still need to read plenty of books, and that takes time, more time than the spells allow me." Koichi nodded, then translated for the girls.

Shiho, the silver-haired girl that Harry had seen touch the floor and whisper instructions yesterday, said something. It sounded interesting, seeing as she sounded quite excited about it.

"Shiho is a Psychometric," Koichi explained. "She can touch objects and know their contents, their properties, and so on. Also, when she touches people, she can read minds."

Harry blinked, and looked at the girl. She smiled disarmingly. He shrugged, then nodded. If she had read his mind, she hadn't hurt him. And as long as she hadn't hurt him, like Snape did, he didn't mind if she read his mind.

"But, she can also transfer thoughts to other people. Like telepathic communications," Koichi went on. "When she touches a book, she knows its contents. It doesn't help with understanding, but it does help with raw memorization. She was suggesting that she touched a book, then transferred it to you – thus preventing that you have to read it."

Harry blinked, and looked t the girl again, while Koichi explained what he had been saying. Harry frowned slightly. "Can you ask her if she trusts me?" he asked Koichi, who obliged. The girl studied him, before nodding once.

Harry's smile widened slightly, and he picked up the book he had been reading, opening it. Taking his wand, he first twirled it at himself. "_Cogito Ergo Sum,_" he declared. Feeling the spell take hold, he then approached Shiho, who blinked up at him, before he cast the spell at her.

She blinked twice more. "Let's hope this works," Harry said, picking up a discarded _Japanese for beginners_ book, as well as a _Japanese to English_ dictionary. Holding up the stack of two books in one hand, he reached out with his free hand.

The girl touched the top book, the beginners book, then grabbed his hand.

The world fell away for Harry, darkness replacing his surroundings as his mind filled with information, the magically enhanced intellect cataloguing and spreading the information with blinding speed and efficiency.

As fast as it started, it stopped.

Shiho blinked. "Incredible," she said.

"I understood," Harry whispered, shocked.

What she said then went by too quickly for him to understand. "Understanding not good," he said. "Maybe book on words?" he asked, pointing to the dictionary, not knowing the Japanese word for it. Shiho grinned, and grabbed both the dictionary and his free hand at the same time.

Again, the world fell away.

And came back.

His head hurt, but it a good way, kinda like how a muscle felt after a really good workout. "Incredible," he whispered.

"Can you understand me now?" Shiho asked, smiling impishly.

"Yes," Harry replied, nodding. "Although it feels as if my spirit... my mind... is still organizing everything."

"That's incredible! You learned Japanese!" Kaoru shouted.

"Only what is in those two books," Harry said, pointing to the books in question. "I need more."

"Does this work on everything?" Shiho asked, obviously having something in mind. "Any book?"

"The spell allows you to learn," Harry explained. "We can only use it for an hour, two at the most. It will damage your brain otherwise. It's dangerous. But it will allow you to learn. It will boost your IQ twenty to thirty points to help you understand, and it will allow you perfect memory recollection. The IQ points will vanish when the spell stops, the recollection of what you learned and understand won't."

Shiho nodded. "Shiho?" Kaoru asked.

Shiho said nothing, but went to her book bag, and pulled out a stack of books. "Harree?"

"Yes?"

She held out her hand. Without hesitation, he took it.

The world vanished, for what felt like a lot longer this time. When he came to, he looked at the silver-haired girl. "I know Japanese," he whispered. She smiled widely.

"What else do you know?" she asked.

He frowned. "Why did you feel it necessary to teach me Japanese poetry?" He cocked his head. "And why is it that I seem to know how to solve complex equations? The history of the samurai seems interesting, though." He blinked, frowned, then leaned closer. "You might want to check that stack of books, I think your diary was in there."

She bushed furiously, went through the books, and blushed even deeper.

"Your secrets are safe with me," he whispered. "Just like I know that my secrets are safe with you."

She nodded shyly.

"Thanks, Shiho," he resumed at full level, going upright again.

"How much more time do we have?" she asked.

"Another... half an hour," Harry said, looking at his watch. "Why?"

Shiho grinned, and it was not a nice grin. "Let's see how much more our minds can absorb," she stated levelly – the same type of level speech he imagined Voldemort to use when he said, "let's plan to take over the world."

He shuddered. That girl was scary.

"We'll start with your stuff," she said, holding out her hand. "Can I have your wand? I'll see if I can read what it does and how it does it, and transfer it to you."

"Does that include wand-movements?" Harry asked.

"It should. It works on weapons – touch a weapon, and become an expert."

Harry grinned, took the book, and brandished his wand. "_Nos morituri te salutant_," Harry intoned, first on him, then on Shiho. "Same thing as the other spell, only for the body."

"Perfect muscle memory?" she asked, and he nodded. Looking excited, she held out her hand again, to which Harry placed his wand in her hand and grabbed her free hand.

"Eleven inches, Holly with a _phoenix feather_ core," she muttered, looking at him. "Looks like this will be a lot of fun. Hang on, Harree."

00000 Next Day 00000

Harry blinked his eyes open, feeling as if his brain were on fire and his blood had frozen solid. Just _what_ had happened yesterday? Last thing he remembered, he grabbed hold of Shiho's hand, then the darkness of her knowledge transfer... then nothing.

He reached for his glasses. Suddenly, they were in his hand, and he slipped them on. The world swam into focus.

He looked around for his wand, yet did not find it in its customary spot on the night table. Growling, he lifted himself out of bed, going on a search to find his wand. "Where did she put me wand?" he muttered as he looked around his room, only to jump as high as he could when his wand flew out from underneath his pillow, and smacked him on his right hand.

Looking at the wand as it clattered to the ground, Harry had no idea what just happened. He had asked for his wand...

The wand lifted itself from the ground, and it would have hit his hand _again_ had his Seeker reflexes not decided to finally kick in and allow him to snatch it out of mid-flight. Harry stared at his wand, thinking of the right thing to say.

Nothing came to mind, and he decided to play around with it. He let go, and halfway to the floor, he thought, _wand_. The wand stopped going down, and started going _up_ instead, and Harry snatched it.

He blinked again. Finally, his thoughts took the form of words. "That's just awesome, is what it is!" He threw the wand across the room. Just as it was about to hit a wall, he held out his hand, and thought a word of command. The wand flashed to his hand.

He knew he couldn't cast the mental spell for another sixteen or so hours without running the risk of... wait a minute. How did he know how to adapt the spell to make the downsides less severe?

He frowned. Now that he thought about it, how come he knew a _better_ mental acuity spell? And how come he knew how to modify that one as well? The more he thoughts, the more his thoughts jumped, and the more he realized he knew things he shouldn't know, and better yet, he knew things he shouldn't know about modifying the things he shouldn't know.

Which made things downright bizarre, and Harry decided not to dwell on the fact that he _shouldn't_ know stuff, and just plain enjoy the fact that he _did_ know.

He spent the rest of the day writing. Writing spells, and modifying them. And, once he realized that spells and their effect were easier to write about in Runes, he switched to writing in Runes. And arithmantic equations to describe the modifications he was making.

After lunch, he realized that his writings were more like they were written in code rather than anything legible, but he shrugged when he realized that it was easier to read than English. It just came naturally to him.

And that was just fine and dandy, and an even bigger grin plastered itself on Harry's face. He was finally going to enjoy magic the way he had always thought he should enjoy magic – by making the impossible happen!

But, first things first. Mental acuity.

He had, after all, spells to modify and use. Shiho had helped him more than she probably would ever realize, and if there was one thing Harry did, it was pay his debts. She had helped him, and now Harry would help all three of them.

By the time the trio of girls came to visit, along with Koichi Minamoto who always seemed to hang around them, it was after five pm, dinner would be in less than an hour, and Harry was surrounded by a stack of books, five empty notepads, charmed with five ever-full pens, writing whatevr-they-pleased, and Harry was waving his wand, the air thick and gel-like around the moving piece of wood.

"Good evening, Harry," Koichi greeted him in English.

"Hi everyone!" Harry greeted in Japanese.

"Hi Harree!" the three girls greeted right back, all three of them looking rather excited at the five pens writing by themselves and the waves in the air generated by Harry's wand.

"Thank you, Shiho. I don't know what happened yesterday, but this morning I woke up with a killer headache and a serious case of I-know-new-stuff." He waved to the stacks of notes spread across the room. "I've been working on that mental acuity spell we used yesterday, and I think I managed to modify pretty good. The spell can now be used for longer, and doesn't need a lot of downtime like the old version."

"That's great, Harree!" Shiho said, sounding rather excited. "Yesterday, I was worried that you wouldn't come out... there was more information in that wand than I ever believed possible. I was afraid I'd hurt you."

Harry stopped his wand-waving, and the gel-like air dispersed, much to the three girl's disappointment. Solemnly, he stood up, and walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Shiho, I have not known you for long," he said. "But one thing I have learned already. You may read my mind. You may be privy to my innermost thoughts and desires. But you have never, and I am pretty sure that you _will_ never, hurt me."

Shiho blinked, placing her hands on Harry's arms as he held her. "Thank you for the confidence..." her voice trailed off when she caught glimpse of a thought, a memory. "Harree, what was that thought?" she asked, her friendly voice dropping half an octave in pitch, and three decibels in volume. Quiet and low, the twelve-year-old sounded unforgiving.

Harry managed not to think about Snape. "It is a thought I don't want to share with you, Shiho. It is a memory that will hurt you," he replied, someho managing to do so without thinking about the memory in question.

"Harree, you have been hurt," she stated, making Kaoru and Aoi grow quiet. "Why won't you share it with me?"

Harry let go of her shoulders, but her hands remained on his arms. Unbidden, the memories tumbled to the front of his mind. He couldn't help it, thinking about Snape was not something he could stop, especially as he hadn't learned Occlumency. His thoughts tumbled through each other as memories flashed, building up what had happened, how it happened, what had supposed to happen and what had happened in reality.

Shiho stilled, then froze. Kaoru and Aoi had seen their friend read crime scenes, never before had they seen her grow so... affected.

"Harree, what happened was _not_ your fault," Shiho said when his thoughts finally stopped.

"I should have been able to stop him. I should have been stronger," Harry grunted, pulling himself out of her grip, and turning his back to them. He didn't want them to see how much even those memories had affected him.

"Harree," Shiho whispered, gently. "You were assaulted by a professor," she said, feeling, rather than hearing, the others stiffen. "He is older than you. Stronger than you. Faster than you. There was nothing you could do to defend yourself. What happened is _not_ your fault."

"And yet I came back," he muttered.

"You were _ordered_ to. You were told, by people in positions of authority that you needed to return. You had no choice. Harree, this is _rape_." The gasps of the others was no long inaudible now. "that... that _monster_ used the mental arts to hurt you. He forced your thoughts from your mind, violated your memories. It was _not_ your fault."

He sighed, and deflated. "I know. But there's nothing I can do about it."

"Will you let me help you?" Shiho asked. "If you cast that mental spell on me, I believe I will be a able to construct a mental shield for you that should protect you forever. There was a psychometer who did the same for Minamoto. It protects his memories. I believe I can do the same, but even protect your thoughts."

It only took ten seconds for Harry to cast the spell, ten minutes for Shiho to do her thing, and five seconds after that for Harry to excuse himself for some fresh air, and stepping out on the balcony, closing the sliding door behind him, indicating his wish for privacy.

"Shiho?" Kaoru finally asked, having understood that remaining quiet was her best option until Shiho had done what she did, and Harry had left the room.

The silver-haired girl let out her breath. "I am going to destroy that man," she stated, in a voice that was flat and devoid of life. "I am going to grab him, and open his mind to the entirety of existence. I will push as much information as I can directly into his mind and watch as his brain matter oozes out through his ears. Protections or not. We all know I can rip through shields if I don't care about the target's mental state afterwards."

"Shiho?" Aoi asked, feeling rather intimidated by her friend all of a sudden. "What happened?"

"That bastard used the magical equivalent of psychometric abilities to read Harree's mind. He was neither friendly nor gentle about it." Her fists balled. "I have read hundreds of minds, I've read thousands of objects related to crimes. Never have my abilities been used to directly hurt someone. To have proof of someone who used the mind arts to hurt another..." She was shaking now. "I feel violated in Harree's place, as if I am guilty by association."

Koichi walked over, and hugged the girl. "We'll help Harry, Shiho. We'll do what we can to help him. And now that he's here, in Japan, that man can't get to him."

"I know. But I want to go find that man and rip his mind to shreds."

"I can get you there," Aoi stated. "If I can get to Stockholm, I can get to the UK."

"Remember how much effort that took, Aoi!" Koichi said.

"That was two years ago, I've gotten a lot stronger. We all have. And if I can get away from an airplane at mach 5 then, I can get away from them at mach five now, carrying Shiho along," Aoi said, crossing her arms.

"That's right!" Kaoru said, nodding. "That monster attacked Harree. The same Harree that saved me!"

"You can't just go out and kill people," Koichi declared. "You're here to protect people, not kill them!"

"He'll still be alive," Shiho said, grinning slightly. "It's alright if he survives, Minamoto? I'll just make sure he won't ever hurt anyone again."

"You really should stay calm. True, what happened to Harry was awful, but..."

"Minamoto-han, are you saying that rape should not be punished?" Aoi asked, her Osaka accent thick as water. She turned her back to him. "You're not the man I thought you were."

"Aoi's right," Kaoru said. "That man assaulted Harree, Minamoto-san. He should be punished."

"It is not your place to punish people, girls," Koichi tried. "It's your job to protect normal people from Espers. Just because you have the ability, doesn't mean-"

"So we let him get away with it, simply because Harree was ordered to have class with that professor?" Shiho asked, stepping towards Koichi, and glaring up at him. Despite the difference in size and years, the man _still_ felt intimidated. "We are Harree's friends. Friends protect each other," she firmly stated.

"That's right, Shiho!" Kaoru declared. "Friends protect each other."

"I'm not saying you can't protect each other. I'm just asking you to be careful, and think things through. You are Japanese. Having you attack British people will cause an international incident. It'll cause a lot of problems."

Kaoru cross her arms, and huffed. "Fine, we won't go looking for him," she said. "But only for as long as Harree is here. If he ever goes back, we're going with him. And if that mans tries something..."

"We'll squash him," Shiho finished, closing one fist. "Like a bug." She turned around, not waiting for a response, and walked to the sliding door, behind which Harry could be seen, leaning on the railing. She slipped it open, and tapped the glass. "Harree?"

"Shiho," harry said, managing a weak grin. "I've made a fool of myself, haven't I?"

She slid the door open further, and stepped up next to him. It felt odd for her, to be here, trying to help someone who was older than her. She acutely felt her lack of experience at twelve, even though she was probably one of the oldest twelve-year-old out there. "No, Harree. What happened was awful. I don't think most people would have handled it like you have."

"Thanks, I guess," he replied, smiling weakly. She found she preferred his enthusiastic smile, like when they were experimenting with his spells and her abilities. That was fun.

"I'm surprised," she finally said, not really knowing _what_ to say.

"Oh?"

She nodded. "I would have thought, that, after what your professor did, that you wouldn't want anyone touching your thoughts. But you let me. And you didn't mind, I could feel it from you."

"I loathe Snape for his spite, for his attitude, for a lot of things, really. He always hurt me, he would always do whatever he could to show his loathing for me. But you... you touched my hand. And you read my mind without me even knowing. And all you did with it, was give me knowledge. You may have read my mind, but you didn't hurt me, you didn't ridicule me, you didn't laugh at me or mock me. So, I don't mind it if you read my mind. I guess," he finished after thinking about his answer for a while. He pushed back from the railing. "We should go in. Dinner should be server, and I'm getting hungry."

She smiled widely. "That sounds good. Building your shield took a lot of effort. I've never done that before."

He smiled down at her, and she was glad to see that his smile was hinting at being genuine. "Thank you for that, Shiho. I don't know if I'll need it – I'm certainly not planning on ever going back – but it's nice to know that it's there, I suppose."

"You're welcome," the silver-haired girl replied with a big grin, and grabbed his hand. "Come on, let's go to dinner."

00000 Random Dumbledore scene 00000

"You really must come back to Britain with me, Harry," Dumbledore tried to plead. "The Greater Good sometimes demands sacrifices."

Before Harry could reply, Shiho walked up to the old Headmaster, came to a stop right in front of him – coincidentally standing in between harry and Dumbledore, as if shielding him – and crossed her arms. For a moment, Dumbledore felt unsettled by the steely gaze with which she stared at him.

Harry looked from one to the other, from the tiny twelve-year-old staring down Albus Dumbledore, the legendary wizard, not knowing what to make of this, but knowing each of the three Children enough to know not to interfere when they had something in mind.

Suddenly, without warning, Shiho kicked Dumbledore's right shin.

Hard, too, as the Headmaster hopped around, cursing loudly in English.

"I don't like you," Shiho stated coldly. In flawless English. "You are the reason Harree has been hurt."

"Woohoo! You tell him, Shiho-chan!" Kaoru screamed, floating halfway between floor and ceiling, one fist held up. Aoi merely pushed her glasses higher onto her nose, grinned, and bent her head just so that the light refracted off the lenses. The flash of light and the grin disturbed Dumbledore, who let go of his injured shin and lowered his leg.

The moment it made contact with the floor, Shiho struck.

Her foot connected solidly with his left shin.

"And Harree is _ours_. We won't let you take him," Shiho continued dispassionately as the old man nearly dropped to the floor from the pain in _both_ his shins.

Kaoru lowered herself to the floor, reached out, and grabbed the notebook and pen that raced across the room. She deftly started taking notes.

"Kaoru-han?" Aoi asked, her Osaka accent thick as water.

"Hush, Aoi-chan. I'm taking notes. You never know when an inventive English curse can come in handy."

Aoi and Shiho exchanged a look, then shrugged.

Harry just stood there, and stared at Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of his age, hopping around, cursing up a storm, completely neutralized by one twelve-year-old girl without magic.

"Shiho?" Harry finally asked.

"Harree?" Shiho replied, looking over her shoulder at him and actually smiling.

"How come you know how to kick him hard enough to make him hop?" he asked, curious despite himself.

Shiho's smile turned positively _evil_, and she pointed at her shoes.

Which, now that Harry looked at them, were actually steel-reinforced combat boots. "Awch," Harry muttered.

"I came prepared the moment I knew he was here," Shiho went on, her angelic-smile back in place. It didn't fool Harry for a moment.

"Thank you, Shiho," he just said, his male ego not at all complaining about being saved by a twelve-year-old girl. After all, Shiho wasn't an _ordinary_ twelve-year-old girl.

00000 Some random Snape scene 00000

Shiho sat in the Defense Against the dark Arts dungeon, next to Harry, watching Snape enter the room. Kaoru and Aoi were sitting in front of Harry, again, next to each other. She was ready. This was the beast that had hurt Harry. This was the animal that had dared use the mental arts to hurt someone in such a vile manner.

Snape stopped in the middle of the room, scanned his students, and actually focused on Harry, Kaoru, Aoi, and Shiho. When their eyes met, Shiho could feel his mind brush over her impressive psychometric mental shields.

She stood up, and walked to the front of the room, ignoring the gasps of the students or the reddening face of the beast.

"You are a vile and disgusting creature," she stated coolly to the subject of Harry's nightmares. "You are horrible and despicable. Why you have not been terminated before, for the good of humanity, I do not understand."

Sape's reddening face turning a horribly blotched purple as he drew his wand and stared his incantation.

"Look into my eyes," Shiho intoned coldly, grabbing hold of Snape's wand-arm with both of her hands. She knew she had no hope of beating him in pure physical strength, but she knew that, once he took the bait, his fate would be sealed.

Snape, nearly apoplectic with rage, took the invitation and sent the strongest Legilimens attack that he could.

To his surprise, her mind was a total void, right before something _grabbed him_!

Shiho's smile was a truly evil and demented something, a facial expression that would have made the Dark Lord proud. She had him where she wanted him. She had been assimilating books at tremendous speed, thanks to Harry's mental agility spells, and had assimilated something called the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The book was weird, the plot incoherent, but it was not only funny, it also held a lot of vry interesting ideas.

She released her breath, and totally empties her mind. She had no wish to experience this particular sensation herself.

"Total Perspective Vortex," she muttered, and Harry's breath stuck in his throat at the sound. Because he, too, had read the book.

The next moment, Snape's mind was given just one momentary glimpse of the entire unimaginable infinity of creation, and somewhere in it a tiny little mark, a microscopic dot on a microscopic dot, which says, "You are here."

Nobody had ever survived the Total Perspective Vortex, and Snape was no exception. His scream of fear and pain raose in pitch until his eyes rolled back, and his body thumped to the ground, curling into a foetal ball, and lay still.

Harry shivered, that scream had sounded as if someone had ripped Snape's soul out of his body, and destroyed it in front of his very eyes.

Shiho looked at the empty shell of the man that had tormented Harry. His mind had shattered, he would never be able to hurt anyone ever again. She nodded once, turned, and walked to take her spot next to Harry. The class was silent, the only sound being of students shuffling away when Shiho passed them.

"Thank you," Harry said as she sat down and started gathering her things.

She nodded. "Thank took quite a bit of effort." She looked at Snpe's empty shell of a body. "The results were very satisfying."


	12. Shuttle 9 Time Warp with a Twist

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft nine: Time travel with a twist**

Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: none

Timeframe: Year One

Last updated: 236 November 2010

**AN: I read somewhere that nobody had ever written a Voldemort comes back in time story. The idea festered in my mind, and I just had to write one – unfortunately, I can't remember who this mysterious author was, but I'll give credit where credit is do if I ever figure out who it is!**

Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, aka He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, aka You-Know-Who, blinked when the doors to his last hideout were blown violently inward by a totally and eerily silent burst of magic.

Through the floating dust stepped a figure, clouded in mist and shrouded in magic, save for one identifying detail. The one detail that always marked the figure, no matter where he went, and no matter where Voldemort thought to hide.

Twin green glowing eyes peered through the murk, even as the dust settled. Voldemort slapped down on the armrest of the chair he was sitting on, releasing the entire reserves of magic stored in the supposedly infallible wards in order to shatter whatever anti-portkey wards the figure had erected, allowing him to escape using an emergency portkey.

It was the first and last time he would be able to do something like that, Voldemort knew, as the portkey dragged him through space to a new location.

He materialized in what used to be Diagon Alley, the burnt-out husks that used to be magical shops pointing accusing shadows at him in the setting twilight. Ever since he had killed Potter's friends, something had snapped in the boy – no, _the man_.

Gone was the shy, quiet, respectful boy. In its place stood Harry Potter, the Man-Who-Lived, the same man who had started practicing Russian Battle Tactics.

If your enemy is mobile, destroy where he can go to ground. Destroy his food, destroy his housing, and do not let him rest.

And as such, Harry Potter had started his five-year manhunt for Tom Riddle, burning and destroying until there was nothing left to burn or to destroy.

Making his way across the ripped-up square of Diagon Alley, Tom fled into the burnt-out husk that used to be Gringotts Bank. He paid no attention to the cracked and shattered marble sign that used to contain a warning against thievery. It had long-since become illegible. Knowing better than to use magic – Potter seemed able to track him regardless of what spell he used – Tom pushed the mangled Gringotts doors open using sheer physical strength.

He had become quite good at using physical substitutes for magic. He dared not do more than activate a few wards here and there, and even then it was only a matter of days before Potter caught up with him.

Making his way across the atrium, now filled with the debris of battle, Tom angled for the tracks that led down to the vaults. He ignored the skeletal remains of fallen Goblin warriors, the mangled desks used as makeshift barriers that might as well have been tissue paper, the ripped-up flooring and collapsed roof tiles.

Potter had not forgotten the Goblins' shelter of one of his Horcruxes, and had decided that Gringotts was 'a place to go to ground' – and as such, had destroyed it.

The precious defenses afforded to him by his Horcruxes had long-since been stripped of him. Even Nagini – fair, beautiful Nagini, had been slain. Potter was relentless, he did not seem to need rest, nor require food or drink. The man was always walking, casting magic, nearing Tom. No matter how far he ran, nor how fast, he was always there, always unhurried, as if knowing that it was only a matter of time.

Tom swallowed as his mind flashed across the bloodshed of the last five years. Every one of his followers, dead. Even his unmarked supporters – massacred. Entire family lines were wiped out, and all those who did not get out of Potter's way were mowed down without consequence.

Had he not been utterly afraid of his life, Tom would have admired the sheer ruthlessness with which Potter went ahead his business, always cool and calm, never hurried.

"I'm coming for you, Tom," a voice drifted across the dank and the murk of post-Potter Gringotts.

Tom shivered at the sound. It was still Potter's voice – but it missed any sort of human infliction.

He pushed open the vault he had been using as a storage space. He was tired of running, and could think of only one way out. Swallowing the last of his pride, and surrendering it completely to his sense of self-preservation, Tom looked over the items gathered. Today would be the last day in his hellish nightmare, the day he would try and set things right.

00000 Time Travel 00000

Tom Riddle Jr appeared where he wanted to appear: in a certain graveyard where he had re-corporated after a certain ritual. The sun was down, but the graves were intact. Voldemort's hand came up and touched one of the gravemarkers. Last time he was here, he had been running for his life, a powerfully walking Harry Potter hot on his heels, who was leveling the graves left and right, denying him any chance of cover.

Harry Potter had learned his lessons well, and knew that solid slabs of marble could block killing curses.

Once again, he denied any sort of grround or cover to his opponent. Tom had fled, in fear of his life, once more.

Shaking his head to banish memories of things that hadn't happened yet, and hopefully never would happen, he walked through the village of Little Hangleton, covered by a cloaking field of his personal design. He once had hoped it would have kept Harry Potter away from him.

His hopes were in vein. Nobody could see through it – except for Harry Potter. The man was a machine.

Tom dropped down on an ancient bed that probably hadn't been made in decades, yet did not care. The moment his body wast in a restful position, his eyes closed by themselves and sleep overtook his battered psyche and exhausted existence.

He didn't know how long he was asleep. All he knew was, when he opened his eyes, daylight was visible outside. Cloaking himself once more, Tom went in search of a newspaper. He didn't dare show himself in public yet, so this took longer than he expected, but he finally accomplished the task after seeing someone leave today's paper at a bus stop.

Checking the date, Tom let out his first smile in years. Today was the third of July of the year 1991. Harry Potter would be going to Hogwarts for his first year in two months, if Tom's calculations were correct.

And he was a genius, so he knew he was.

It wouldn't take that much effort to track down his Horcruxes. Being himself from a different timeline, he could feel them quite well, and knew their locations. He would destroy them all, then go after the him from this lifetime – the incorporeal ghost who possessed random animals and Muggles in Albania.

After taking care of himself, Tom would then brew a de-aging potion, turn himself into an eleven-year-old, and attach himself to Harry Potter. He would be the boy's bodyguard, mentor, teacher, training, or even... shudder... friend, Tom supposed finally. Whatever the boy required him to be. He would make sure Harry had a happy childhood, with no manipulations, and lots of friends. A happy Harry was a Harry that didn't turn Dark Lord and killed everything.

He knew better than to try and kill the boy. Even at eleven, it was quite possible that Harry Potter would snap and go all Dark Lord on Tom.

No, the only solution would be to keep Harry happy.

First things first. The destruction of himself. He'd stick to the one lifetime he got, he supposed. A hundred years was better than nothing at all. And considering the fact that the de-aging potion would only give him the _appearance_ of his eleven-year-old self, he would have access to all his mgic and all of his knowledge. He could be the biggest prodigy this side of Dumbledore.

Tom rubbed his hands. Yes, having his genius acknowledged in such a way was the best he could hope for, and it would have to do. Maybe no bowing and scraping, but at least he could get to act like an eccentric genius. He might as well get his pleasures where he could.

And now, it was time to go hunting for Horcruxes.

00000 September first 00000

Tom entered King's Cross station through the main entrance, cursing the shorter legs and less reach provided to him by his 'new' eleven-year-old body. He was, however, glad that he had brewed and imbibed the potion yesterday, as his body had received a very... unusual reaction to his adult magic.

Apparently, running for your life for five years not only sharpened the mind and creativity, it also provided you with dense muscles, a lot of stamina... and a truckload of magic.

And said truckload of magic was the problem. His eleven-year-old body could not handle such an amount of magic – not without showing tell-tale signs of it, anyway. He had found himself glowing, his hair waving in magical winds, and the power of his magic pulsing through his veins. It was almost as if, now that he was rid of his constructed body, his magic had returned with a vengeance, now that it no longer needed to support the construct.

Perhaps it had served as some sort of weight or resistance training. Whatever the case, Tom did not care. His body was glowing and his hair was waiving, and there was no way he was ever going to pass among the student population when he looked like a miniature lighthouse.

And so, he had locked his magic down. A single though could release it to its full potential, but for now, he would be able to pass as normal. It would be a bit more difficult to cast magic – and this time he was sure it would be good resistance training – but at least he wouldn't stand out too much. He'd even prepared some speech he could use when Albus finally came and talked to him.

Tom smirked as he walked to the entrance to platform nine and three-quarters. If he remembered correctly, he should be able to find... there he was, Harry Potter. He seemed to be searching for the entrance.

Tom resisted the urge to shoot the brat right here and now, the consequences be damned. But then the boy's hopeless look focused on him, and those green eyes – those same piercing green eyes – those same killing curse green eyes... Tom grit his teeth, squashed the fear he felt welling up in his hcest, and plastered a smile on his face.

He nodded to Harry, took a surreptitious look around, then grinned back at him, as if saying he was about to perform the greatest magic trick of all times, then turned and walked through the wall to platform nine and three-quarters.

Harry potter followed mere seconds later, almost bumping into him.

Tom turned and looked at him, not really sure what to say.

"Thank you for showing me," Harry muttered lowly.

Tom nodded. "You're welcome," he said, before making a show of looking at Harry's forehead, pretending to see the famous scar and doing the instant recognition thin. "Sir," he added. Yes, that would work. He'd attach himself to Potter as a retainer, rather than a friend. That could work even better. He never was the best at making friends, but he did know what made a good follower – he'd expected his Death Eaters to be ones, after all. Now he'd get to practice what he preached. And besides, he still had the whole genius-kick that was going to make his famous, rather than infamous. Being Potter's retainer wouldn't be so bad when compared to that.

"Call me Harry," Harry muttered. "Harry Potter."

"I know, Sir," Tom said, smiling slightly at the annoyed look that passed over Harry's face. He'd get his victories where he could... and annoying Potter would be just another small pleasure that would make hits whole thing bearable. "You may call me Tom. Tom Riddle."

"Why are you calling me 'sir', Tom?" Harry asked as the two made their way to train. Harry was gaping as it came into better view, and even Tom had to smile. The Hogwarts Express brought back a lot of good memories – memories he thought he had lost a long time ago. Maybe the de-aging potion had done something to his memories as well...

"You are Harry Potter, Sir," Tom said. "You have defeated the Dark Lord. I thought maybe you could have use of me... I know a lot about the magical world and spells and such. As such, I'd be kinda like your employee... and I'll call you 'Sir', because you deserve respect."

_Or more like, because should something happen, I don't want you to kill me_, Tom thought.

"Please call me Harry," Harry insisted.

"Of course, Sir," Tom said, smiling when Harry frowned. Harry then glared at him when he came to realization that Tom was saying it just to annoy him.

"Fine, then," Harry muttered.

"Thank you, Sir," Tom replied without infliction. "Perhaps we should find a compartment before they are all taken?"

Harry shrugged, and started dragging his trunk. "Sure."

Tom flicked his wand, shrinking the trunk down to the size of a matchbox, then reached down, picked it up, and handed it to Harry.

"That's impressive," Harry muttered as he studied his trunk, then pocketed it. He turned to look at Tom, and said, "You know, Tom, I think this will work out marvelously."

"Thank you, Sir," Tom said, inwardly cackling maniacally. If the boy was impressed with a simple shrinking charm, this would be far easier than he ever thought it would be.

00000 pre-Sorting 00000

Tom stood, arms crossed, glaring at Harry Potter as the gaggle of first-years waiting in the little antechamber, waiting for the Sorting ceremony.

"I said I'm sorry, Tom," Harry said.

"Why did you make me be nice to the little Mudblood, Sir?" Tom asked, glaring as effectively as he could in his eleven-year-old body. To most adults, it would look more like a 'pout' than a 'glare', and as such, it had very little effect on Harry Potter, who had been hunted by his relatives his entire life.

Harry's face dropped into a frown, and Tom had a very unsettling flashback - or was that a flashforward? - to the adult Harry Potter coming to reap his soul. "I asked you not to call anybody that, Tom," Harry said, his voice showing his displeasure, and he shot an apologetic glance towards Hermione Granger. The girl in question didn't know what to do, nor what to make of the situation, so she just dipped her head, then resolutely looked the other way, as if they were beneath them.

"But, Sir!" Tom protested. "It's bad enough that you made me summon the toad – at least Longbottom is a pureblood. But you made me be nice to the little Mud-"

"Tom," Harry said. One word.

Tom gulped. He was an adult wizard, capable of unspeakable things. He had performed the most dangerous magics. He had been the terror of the Wizarding World... before Harry Potter had annihilated everything. That single word, spoken on such a cold infliction, gave Tom Riddle the most unsettling flashforward to a time where Harry Potter was _not_ eleven, and where he was the most powerful man alive.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I promise I will do better," Tom whispered, not feeling a tiny tug on his magic.

Harry nodded, suddenly afraid that he might lose a potential friend over this. "I hope you're not mad at me, Tom?"

Tom hurriedly shook his head in the negative, even though he was part seething in rage, part trembling in terror. "Of course not, Sir. You're merely telling me your rules, Sir. I shouldn't have questioned you, Sir."

"I asked you to call me Harry, Tom."

"Yes, Sir. Yes, you did."

Harry crossed his arms and pouted. Tom cackled evilly – inside. "Why don't you go apologize to Hermione, then?" Harry finally asked, making Tom's eyes go big.

"Sir?"

"You called her that despicable name, Tom. You should go and apologize, and promise her you won't do it again."

"Apologize to the little Mu... glleborn, Sir?" Tom asked, his voice actually trembling. Whether it was with rage or humiliation, he couldn't say.

"Yes, Tom."

Tom turned and walked to Hermione. "I hate Hogwarts. I hate Harry Potter. I hate the Mu...ggleborns." He blinked and stopped halfway to the girl. _Great, now I can't even think the word Mu... dammit. Blasted magical contracts. My magic must've taken my promise a bit more seriously than I thought. This is going to _suck_!_

00000 Sorting 00000

"Riddle, Tom," McGonagall read from her parchment. A faint smile on his lips, Tom walked to the three-legged stool, sat down, and placed the Sorting Hat on his head. How easily that stupid piece of parchmet could be altered using some very simple wandless and wordless magic.

Tom was treated to the unique sensation of the Sorting Hat _blinking_.

_We have met before, I believe,_ the small voice at the back of his head spoke. _Mr I-Am-Lord-Voldemort._

Tom grinned slightly. _Hi Mr Hat. My name is Tom, I'm eleven years old, and when I grow up, and I wanna be a Dark Lord._

_Snarky,_ the hat replied, although Tom had the distinctive impression that it was amused.

_You started it, _Tom shot back. _Let's cut to the chase. I want Gryffindor._

_Oh? Last time, you were quite insistent on Slytherin. What made you change your mind?_

_As if you can't see,_ Tom said. _You see Harry Potter? If I'm not in Gryffindor, I can't help him, protect him, guide him, and train him. If I'm not, then one day, he's going to snap and kill all of us. Trust me, you want me in Gryffindor._

Relaxing his Occlumency shields, Tom could feel the Hat ruffling through his mind and his memories. _I see... very well, if you are so insistent, I will place you in _GRYFFINDOR!

As Tom got up, he shot a triumphant smirk in Dumbledore's direction. The old headmaster, already pale when Tom's name was called, was now looking ready for a heart-attack. Tom joined the cheering Gryffindors, leaving the Headmaster to his shock.

After a rather boring dinner, Tom joined Harry and the other Gryffindor first years on their way out of the Great Hall, pretending not to know where he was going as he followed one of the Prefects. Just as he was about to leave the Great Hall, the Headmaster walked up to them.

"Mr Riddle, please join me in my office," the old man said on a kindly tone that did not fool Tom for a second. Giving Harry a shrug, and shooting a grin at a set of Weasley Twins that were congratulating hiom for being sent to the Headmaster's office on his first evening, Tom followed the old man.

In silence, they walked through the halls of Hogwarts, Tom casually looking around, actually having missed the place and feeling... well, he didn't do happy... about being back.

The moment the Headmaster opened the door to his office, Tom strode passed him. He could drop all pretenses here, so he crossed the room with no effort, snagged Fawkes off his perch, and dumped himself in the Headmaster's comfy chair with enough force so that he could kick his feet up on the desk in the same motion.

Fawkes managed one indignant squawk before Tom was in the chair, and petting him right where it was needed, calming the shocked firebird right down.

Dumbledore stood in his own office, staring at an eleven-year-old boy, sitting in _his_ chair, with his feet up on _his_ desk, petting _his_ Phoenix, and looking for all intents and purposes as if he were in control of the situation.

"Please sit down, Albus," Tom invited genially, motioning to a visitor's chair with his free hand, before resuming his petting of Fawkes. "We have lots of to discuss."

Dumbledore sat. "So it would seem, Tom," the old man finally said, staring at the phoenix sitting calmly on Tom's lap, one arm holding the creature, the other petting him.

"Now, I think you are wondering who I am and what I am doing here, Albus. Especially as I am not in the Hogwarts register, and have a name that is probably ringing all sorts of warning bells in your mind," Tom said calmly, not at all concerned with what he was doing.

"You are correct about that, Tom," the Headmaster said, feeling rather odd about a student calling him by his first name, yet feeling too shocked to be angry about it.

"Very well, Albus. Please keep in mind that you are supposed to be calm,, cool, and collected, and that you do not loose your temper," Tom said with a faint grin. "My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort."

Dumbledore was out of the chair, the Elder Wand halfway up to cast a spell, when Tom just looked down at Fawkes, before looking back at Albus, lifting one eyebrow. The Headmaster stood there, the wand trembling, knowing that he couldn't shoot at Tom without risking hitting Fawkes.

"Please sit down, Albus. Like I said, you're calm, cool, and don't loose your temper. You're starting to act out of character." Dumbledore sat down, but the wand remained in his hand. "Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted... I am Voldemort. I have travelled back in time, a little over sixteen years, I believe. The reason I cam back is simple. Harry Potter."

Dumbledore twitched, then remembered not to jump up. "I am not going to allow you to hurt Harry Potter, Tom," Dumbledore said, somehow managed to sound way calmer than he actually felt.

Tom shook his head. "I am not going to hurt Harry Potter, Albus. I came back to support him. I came back to train him, to guide him, to make sure that he has the happy childhood that _you_ robbed him off." Dumbledore flinched. "Because, you see, Harry Potter will snap. He will go completely insane, and start hunting."

"Hunting?" Dumbledore asked.

Tom nodded. "Hunting. Everything and everybody that has ever hurt him. He will start simple. He will destroy the Ministry, the Aurors, and Azkaban. Well, the Ministry and Azkaban were his targets, the Aurors were simply stupid enough to try and stop him. Piece fo advice, Albus, if Harry Potter tells you to step aside, you will step aside and drop your wand. You will then walk away. Just in the interest of your continued existence, of course."

"Of course," Albus muttered, reaching for his desk and grabbing a handful of Lemon Drops .

"Now, after getting rid of the Ministry and Azkaban, he'll come after Hogwarts. It'll take months to get Snape's blood out of the walls of the Great Hall – and the smell never goes away. Then he'll come after the Death Eaters, and finally, myself. He'll employ Russian Battle Tactics, and refuse his enemies places to go to ground. Scorched Earth and all that." Tom sat up straight in the chair, and fixed Dumbledore with a stare that was intimidating, even when it was on the face of an eleven-year-old boy. Knowing that this boy was Voldemort from the future helped.

"Scorched Earth, Albus. By the time I came back, Hogwarts was in ruins, Hogsmeade was wiped away, Diagon Alley was a burnt-out husk, and Gringotts was a skeleton. Less than ten percent of magical Brittain still lived, and thos elived mostly because they were abroad when Harry Potter snapped."

"Dear God," Dumbledore muttered, grabbing more Lemon Drops, trying to calm himself down. "What caused such a psychotic break?"

"Years and years of abuse. Continued stress. No loving home, being crucified in the press, very few friends, and the pressure you kept heaping on the boy didn't help. But what finally drove him over the edge was myself, killing his only two friends. It broke him, Albus. All of us, we _use_ magic. We tell it what to do, and it does it. Harry Potter does _not_ use magic. He _is_ magic. He does not need wands or incantations – he casts magic the way the rest of us move an arm or a leg. He's a predator, and we're all prey."

"And so you came back," Dumbledore muttered.

"And so I came back," Tom said. "I destroyed most of my Horcruxes, but I was too late to exorcise my spirit-self when I arrived – it had already left. By the way, are you aware that your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is possessed, Albus?"

Dumbledore blinked. "I was not."

Tom nodded. "I'm planning on having some fun with myself. Please do not interfere, Albus."

"I can not allow you to hurt..."

"Nobody will get hurt, Albus," Tom said, waving his hand. "I know exactly what I am going to do, and I know how to counter each and every step. I merely want to have some fun. I'm planning on establishing myself as a prodigy. I figure, one hundred and fifty years of adulation and adoration will be better than being hunted for a few short years, so I'll stick with Harry, make sure he's happy, and live the eccentric life of a genius."

"I'm not sure I believe your altruistic motives, Tom," Dumbledore said. "I am well aware that everyone believes that a sob-story will win me over, but I am afraid it is not so easy."

"Please note that I have been here, peacefully, answering your questions and explaining my motives, Albus," Tom said. "Also note that I have met Harry Potter at Platform nine and three-quarters, and have been with him the entire train ride, yet have not hexed either him or his mu...ggleborn friend."

"Now I'm sure that was not the word you were intending to use, Tom," Dumbledore replied.

"Harry Potter tricked me into swearing a magical oath, dammit," Tom grouched, releasing Fakes and crossing his arms, pouting like the eleven-year-old boy he looked like.

A smile appeared on Dumbledore's face, and the twinkle returned to his eyes. "I think I believe you now. You would not voluntarily swear a magical oath unless you really decided to change."

Tom blinked. "But he tricked me! I don't want to be nice to the muggleborn!"

"You did not even hesitate that time, Tom. Careful, someone might think that you were not even _trying_ to use the other word that time."

"I hate you, Albus," Tom muttered, absentmindedly petting Fawkes.

"We all have our little vices, Tom," Dumbledore said good-naturedly. "Now, I believe it is quite late. Young boys should get plenty of rest. How about we stop our conversation here, and I allow you to return to your dorms? I assume you remember where the Gryffindor Common Room is?"

Tom stared with open mouth at Albus. "I absolutely loathe you, Albus."

"My, my, such negativity. You really should get some sleep, Tom. Missing sleep is not good for a growing boy."

Tom stood up, deposited Fawkes on his perch, then turned to Albus. "Sometimes, I wonder if this idea had a few flaws in it. And sometimes, I _know_ it does."

"Good evening, Tom."

Tom muttered some unkindly things under his breath as he stormed to the door, the Headmaster's chuckles chasing him.


	13. Shuttle 10 Hermione Granger's Statement

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft ten: The statement of Hermione Granger**

Main Universe: Harry Potter

Crossovers: none

Timeframe: End of Year Two

Last updated: 8 November 2010

**AN: A retelling of 'the statement of Randolph Carter', by HP Lovecraft. I thought it fit...**

Again I say, I do not know what has become of Harry Potter, though I think – almost hope – that he is in peaceful oblivion, if there be anywhere so blessed a thing. It is true that I have for two years been one of his closest friends, and a partial sharer of his terrible researches into the unknown. I will not deny, though my memory is uncertain and indistinct, that this witness of yours may have seen us together as he says, on the second floor, walking toward that ghastly haunted lavatory, at half past 11 on that awful night. That we bore lanterns and our wands, I will even affirm; for these things all played a part in the single hideous scene which remains burned into my shaken recollection. But of what followed, and of the reason I was found alone and dazed on the stairway to the second floor, I must insist that I know nothing save what I have told you over and over again. You say to me that there is nothing in the lavatory or near it which could form the setting of that frightful episode. I reply that I knew nothing beyond what I saw. Vision or nightmare it may have been-vision or nightmare I fervently hope it was – yet it is all that my mind retains of what took place in those shocking hours after we left the sight of men. And why Harry Potter did not return, he or his shade-or some nameless thing I cannot describe – alone can tell.

As I have said before, the weird studies I conducted for Harry Potter were well known to me, although they no longer are so now. I was never allowed to read the fiend-inspired book which brought on the end – the book which he carried in his pocket out of the world – was written in characters whose like I never saw elsewhere. Harry would never tell me just what was in that book. As to the nature of our studies – must I say again that I no longer retain full comprehension? It seems to me rather merciful that I do not, for they were terrible studies, which I pursued more through reluctant fascination than through actual inclination, for Harry Potter required my help.

The most strange and horrible events allowed happened to Harry Potter, and sometimes I feared him. I remember how I shuddered at his facial expression on the night before the awful happening, when he talked so incessantly about the horrible allegations placed at his feet by the students and staff of this hallowed institution that is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Sorcery. He talked at length and with vigour about his theories, about achieving evidence of his vindication, and his subsequent magnanimous forgiveness of those that would seek it. But I do not fear him now, for I suspect that he has known horrors beyond my ken. Now I fear for him.

Once more I say that I have no clear idea of our object on that night. Certainly, it had much to do with something in the book which Harry carried with him – that ancient book in undecipherable characters which had come to him at the restricted Section the month before – but I swear I do not know what it was that we expected to find. Your witness says he saw us at half past 11 on the Second Floor, headed for the haunted lavatory. This is probably true, but I have no distinct memory of it. The picture seared into my soul is of one scene only, and the hour must have been long after midnight; for a waning crescent moon was high in the vaporous heavens visible through the windows.

The place was an ancient lavatory; so ancient that I trembled at the manifold signs of immemorial years. It was in a damp room, overflown with stagnant water thrown by its haunting ghost, and filled with a vague stench which my idle fancy associated with rotting excrement. On every hand were the signs of neglect and decrepitude, and I seemed haunted by the notion that Harry and I were the first living creatures to invade a lethal silence of decades. Over the windows' rim a wan, waning crescent moon peered through the noisome vapours that seemed to emanate from unheard of sinks, and by its feeble, wavering beams I could distinguish a repellent array of antique sinks, stalls, cisterns, and mural facades; all crumbling, almost-moss-grown, and moisture-stained.

My first vivid impression of my own presence in this terrible place concerns the act of pausing with Harry before a certain serpentine-inscribed porcelain sink and of placing down our magical lanterns, providing ample lighting for our continued nocturnal activities. No word was uttered, for the spot and the task seemed known to use; and without delay Harry took out that demoniac scripture, glanced at one of its yellowed pages, and spoke in that horrible, grating, hissing noise that I have come to associate with the language of Parseltongue.

The sink, ancient and unused for centuries, removed itself from its position, sinking into the ground with a noiseless action that spoke more to my furtive imagination than had all that had come before.

The removal of the sink revealed a black aperture, from which rushed an effluence of miasmal gases so nauseous that we started back in horror. After an interval, however, we approached the pit again, and found the exhalations less unbearable. Our lanterns disclosed the top of a flight of stone steps, dripping with some detestable ichor of the inner earth, and bordered by moist walls encrusted with nitre. And now for the first time my memory records verbal discourse, Harry addressing me at length in his mellow tenor voice; a voice singularly unperturbed by our awesome surroundings

.

"I'm sorry to have to ask you to stay on the surface," he said, "but it would be a crime to let anyone with your frail nerves go down there. You can't imagine, even from what you have read and from what I've told you, the things I shall have to see and do. It's fiendish work, Hermione, and I doubt if any person without ironclad sensibilities could ever see it through and come up alive and sane. I don't wish to offend you, and Heaven knows I'd be glad enough to have you with me; but the responsibility is in mine and mine alone, and I couldn't drag a bundle of nerves like you down to probable death or madness. I tell you, you can't imagine what the thing is really like! But I promise to keep you informed over wand of every move – I know that your communications spell would server me to Hell and back!"

I can still hear, in memory, those coolly spoken words; and I can still remember my remonstrances. I seemed desperately anxious to accompany my friend into those abysmal depths, yet he proved inflexibly obdurate. At one time he threatened to abandon the expedition if I remained insistent; a threat which proved effective, since he alone held the key to the thing. All this I can still remember, though I no longer know what manner of thing we sought. After he had obtained my reluctant acquiescence in his design, Harry picked up his lantern and held aloft his wand. At his nod I took out my own wand, and cast the communications spell I had developed, linking my wand to his, and leaned myself upon an aged, discoloured sink close by the newly uncovered aperture. Then he shook my hand, lifted aloft his wand once more, as if to reassure both himself and me that he had it ready, and disappeared within that indescribable pit.

For a minute I kept sight of the glow of his lantern; but the glow soon disappeared abruptly, as if a turn in the stone staircase had been encountered, and the sound died away almost as quickly. I was alone, yet bound to the unknown depths by those magic strands that connected us in the light of that waning crescent moon.

I constantly consulted my watch by the light of my electric lantern, and listened with feverish anxiety at the receiving end of my wand; but for more than a quarter of an hour heard nothing. Then a faint clicking came from the instrument, and I called down to my friend in a tense voice. Apprehensive as I was, I was nevertheless unprepared for the words which came up from that uncanny vault in accents more alarmed and quivering than any I had heard before from Harry Potter. He who had so calmly left me a little while previously, now called from below in a shaky whisper more portentous than the loudest shriek:

"God! If you could see what I am seeing!"

I could not answer. Speechless, I could only wait. Then came the frenzied tones again:

"Hermione, it's terrible – monstrous – unbelievable!"

This time my voice did not fail me, and I poured into the transmitting end of my wand a flood of excited questions. Terrified, I continued to repeat, "Harry, what is it? What is it?"

Once more came the voice of my friend, still hoarse with fear, and now apparently tinged with despair:

"I can't tell you, Hermione! It's too utterly beyond thought – I dare not tell you – no man could know it and live – Great God! I never dreamed of this!"

Stillness again, save for my now incoherent torrent of shuddering inquiry. Then the voice of Harry in a pitch of wilder consternation:

"Hermione! for the love of God, put back the sink and get out of this if you can! Quick! Leave everything else and make for the outside – it's your only chance! Do as I say, and don't ask me to explain!"

I heard, yet was able only to repeat my frantic questions. Around me were the sinks and the darkness and the shadows; below me, some peril beyond the radius of the human imagination. But my friend was in greater danger than I, and through my fear I felt a vague resentment that he should deem me capable of deserting him under such circumstances. More clicking, and after a pause a piteous cry from Harry:

"Beat it! For God's sake, put back the sink and beat it, Hermione!"

Something in the boyish slang of my evidently stricken companion unleashed my faculties. I formed and shouted a resolution, "Harry, brace up! I'm coming down!" But at this offer the tone of my auditor changed to a scream of utter despair:

"Don't! You can't understand! It's too late – and my own fault. Put back the sink and run – there's nothing else you or anyone can do now!"

The tone changed again, this time acquiring a softer quality, as of hopeless resignation. Yet it remained tense through anxiety for me.

"Quick – before it's too late!"

I tried not to heed him; tried to break through the paralysis which held me, and to fulfil my vow to rush down to his aid. But his next whisper found me still held inert in the chains of stark horror.

"Hermione – hurry! It's no use – you must go – better one than two – the sink – "

A pause, more clicking, then the faint voice of Harry:

"Nearly over now – don't make it harder – cover up those damned steps and run for your life – you're losing time – so long, Hermione – won't see you again."

Here Harry's whisper swelled into a cry; a cry that gradually rose to a shriek fraught with all the horror of the ages –

"Curse these hellish things – legions – My God! Beat it! Beat it! BEAT IT!"

After that was silence. I know not how many interminable eons I sat stupefied; whispering, muttering, calling, screaming into that wand. Over and over again through those eons I whispered and muttered, called, shouted, and screamed, "Harry! Harry! Answer me – are you there?"

And then there came to me the crowning horror of all – the unbelievable, unthinkable, almost unmentionable thing. I have said that eons seemed to elapse after Harry shrieked forth his last despairing warning, and that only my own cries now broke the hideous silence. But after a while there was a further clicking in my wand, and I strained my ears to listen. Again I called down, "Harry, are you there?" and in answer heard the thing which has brought this cloud over my mind. I do not try, gentlemen, to account for that thing – that voice – nor can I venture to describe it in detail, since the first words took away my consciousness and created a mental blank which reaches to the time of my awakening in the hospital. Shall I say that the voice was deep; hollow; gelatinous; remote; unearthly; inhuman; disembodied? What shall I say? It was the end of my experience, and is the end of my story. I heard it, and knew no more – heard it as I sat petrified in that ancient lavatory on the second floor, amidst the crumbling sinks and the falling stalls, the stagnant water and the miasmal vapours – heard it well up from the innermost depths of that damnable open hole as I watched amorphous, necrophagous shadows dance beneath an accursed waning moon.

And this is what it said:

"You fool, Harry is DEAD!"


	14. Shuttle 11 One of Many

**The Enterprise shuttlecraft – shuttlecraft eleven: One of Many**

Main Universe: Naruto

Crossovers: Star Trek Voyager

Timeframe: Beginning of Naruto Series

Last updated: 11 October 2012

* * *

"Subspace rift has been successfully opened," the multi-collective omnipresent voice of the Borg Collective reported to itself. "Transport conduit to Parallel Universe is stable. Sphere 7495 will investigate."

A single spherical Borg ship detached itself from the unicomplex that was the Borg's central hub, moving toward the recently opened rift in space.

"Sphere 7495 has departed, change designation to Unimatrix 759."

"Sphere 7495 now known as Unimatrix 759, and will proceed through the spacial rift."

"Rift will be closed after transfer of Sphere 7495. if no communication received within forty-eight gigacycles, assuming target universe to be hostile."

The Borg had learned from their disastrous encounter with an extra-dimensional species called Species 8472 - their exploration would now send through one sphere, close the rift, and wait two standard days. If no communication came back from the sphere within that timeframe, the universe was considered hostile, and abandoned.

As Sphere 7495 entered the rift, the Cube holding steady behind it, closed the conduit up. Sphere 7495, also known as Unimatrix 759, was now on its own.

During the transfer, an enormous plasma discharge hit the ship, and the Borg unicomplex would never hear from unimatrix 759 again. Sphere 7459, and all nine drones on it, were declared lost, and the universe was labeled as hostile. It would never be visited again.

* * *

Naruto was sitting atop the Hokage monument, looking down upon Konoha, contemplating his upcoming exams. Tomorrow, he would be tested once again on his skills and knowledge for the third time.

He'd show them all that he could be a ninja, despite the overwhelming odds stacked against him. Every time, every damn time, he was tested on the skills that were his worst: bunshin, the clone technique, and henge, the illusion technique.

He blinked when something caught his eye. A bright green ball of flame fell from the skies, and Naruto's eyes tracked it on its arch of descent before it impacted the earth, far on the other side of the Hokage monument.

Naruto was sure that few, if any, other people saw the bright ball of green fire streak swiftly across the heavens and hit the earth, it arc had been swift and speedy, and he had barely been able to see it himself.

Excited, he jumped up form his perch and raced toward the impact zone, determined to figure out what the strange ball of fire had been. Maybe it was some sort of awesome new jutsu being tested – not an unheard of event in Konoha – and maybe he would be able to learn a few things!

Naruto wasn't a fully-trained Ninja expert. Heck, he was barely an undertrained ninja, judging from his lousy test scores and his repeated failure at the ninja examinations.

As such, it took him nearly half an hour to make it to the site.

When he arrived there, he found a scene of utter devastation, trees burning with the strange green fire that he had witnessed falling from the sky, while the ground itself was torn open in a vicious wound bleeding green fire.

Silent for once in his life, Naruto trailed through the scene, bypassing the worst of the fires, staring with open mouth at the havoc wreaked on the nature of his home.

Bypassing the worst of the green fires, Naruto slowly homed in on the center of the destruction, the horror of what happened igniting a rage in his heart. Whoever did this was going to get a piece of Naruto's mind.

When and if the aspiring ninja could find him, her, it, or miscellaneous that is.

Finally, he found a large rent in the soil, an elongated oval zone where the ball of fire had impacted the earth and an angle and dug its way through the ground. Death and destruction hung in the air and clung to the ground like a horrific fog, and Naruto held his hand up and squished his nose shut against the stench of burning biological matter.

The huge metal sphere that lay in the middle of the devastated zone looked smashed and broken, its geometric shape easily recognizable but horribly deformed at the same time, its case cracked open, spilling its insides.

Naruto cautiously approached the object, finding it larger than he had first thought it would be, and slowly hoisted himself inside of it. Much to his surprise, the inside air was hot and humid.

Its corridors were lined with machines the likes of which Naruto had never before seen, and the nature of which he did not wish to know. Electric sparks made him flinch, and almost contemplate retreat.

However, this was Naruto, and as such, he pressed on, attempting to divine the nature of this strange structure, and the purpose to its invasion of his home.

"HELLO!?" he shouted, attempting to draw attention to himself. Maybe someone would come out and talk to him, and maybe someone would cry out for help, or maybe something else would happen that would allow him to either shift his attention, or allow him a reasonably good excuse for a quick exit.

He received no reply. Shrugging, he ventured in deeper.

A woman, encased in what had to be the coolest skin-tight form-fitting armor Naruto had ever seen, lay dead against one side. Her head was encased in a strangely technological helmet with an eyepiece that covered one side of her face, yet it did not seem to have helped any when her body was impaled upon the jagged edge of a piece of debris.

After ensure the strange woman was dead, Naruto pressed on, ducking underneath falling piping and thick cables that arched dangerously.

The next person he encountered, a man that did not look human even in the similarly styled armor, was almost completely beheaded when one of the strange machines fell ever and crushed his body from the neck down.

Naruto paused to examine the man's bony forehead ridges, then sighed when the man was most assuredly dead as well.

On his venture deeper, he encountered more men and women, dressed all in the same stylish armor. Armor almost wished they had a spare suit for him – it was almost cool enough for him to wear.

If only it came in orange.

The last person he encountered was a man who was still alive. He was wheezing heavily, dragging himself forward with his arms as his legs had been sheared off by some unknown accident.

"We... are the Borg," the man intoned upon seeing Naruto. "We will add... your biological... and technological... distinctiveness... to... our own... Resistance... is Futile."

Naruto frowned, not understanding a single word the man was saying. "I don't understand a word you're saying," Naruto said, kneeling next to the legless man. "Stay still, I'll get help."

The man gasped and wheezed, a shudder going through his body. Even an undertrained Naruto knew there would be no help here, and he instinctively grabbed the man's hand.

His stranger was dying, and no man should die alone, Naruto reasoned. The least he could do was hold his hand while he died.

To his surprise, the man lunged up, and two small tubes shot out of his hand and injected something in Naruto's neck.

"Hey! What the heck do you think you're doing!?" Naruto shouted, throwing the legless man off him. The body hit the ground hard, and lay still. The lunge and injection had been the man's final act.

There he stood, in the middle of a decimated, broken ship, filled with corpses, with his right hand against two puncture marks in his neck. How was he going to explain himself out of this one?

He blinked. The wound was hot, and the heat was spreading through his body. Something seemed to be fighting him over it.

Naruto frowned. "What the...?" he asked against, when his legs started to buckle. He forced himself upright.

"We are the Borg. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Resistance is futile."

"Like hell it is," Naruto growled, trying his best to resist the whatever-it-was that was running through his veins.

"You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile," the strange voice sounded in his ears again.

Then came the one question the Borg computer did not recall had ever been asked of the Borg. "Only if I get some of that armor in orange!"

* * *

Naruto walked into the classroom, ready to take his exams. Ignoring the looks and startled muttering of his classmates, he took the most logical seat - right at the front, directly in front of Iruka's desk.

It was logical, the Borg computer-aspect of the new collective decided. The Naruto-aspect, the eternal prankster, enjoyed the simple audacity of it.

"Naruto?" the teacher asked.

"Affirmative," Naruto answered, calmly. He was grateful for the computer-aspect that kept him from either smiling or laughing - or even twitching his face, for that matter.

"What... happened?" the man finally ventured, when it looks like Naruto wasn't going to say anything further.

"We were assimilated into the Borg Collective. This drone's biological and technological distinctiveness was added to theirs."

The teacher stared at his favorite student, unable to frame a response to the reply that literally meant nothing to him.

"And this... requires orange armor?"

"Color is irrelevant. This drone requested the color upon assimilation."

"Eh... right." Iruka blinked. "And the eye?"

Naruto ignored the impulse to touch his left eye, now replaced by a technological marvel. "The ocular implant allows for a wider range of visual acuity, including infrared, ultraviolet, and various other wavelengths of the electromagnetic spectrum."

Again, Iruka blinked, not feeling happy at all with his student, and feeling a massive headache coming on. "The joke's been on long enough, Naruto. Get rid of it," he ordered.

"As the Borg armor has been fused to this drone's skin, it is in effect an exoskeleton and cannot be removed without undue damage to this drone," Naruto reported. His Naruto-aspect was doing the mental equivalent of rolling on the ground laughing while the computer-aspect maintained a tight lid of his exterior emotions. Iruka's face was hilarious!

Naruto remained seated where he was, devoid of any and all emotions or facial expressions, while Iruka stared angrily at the boy. It took nearly five minutes before Iruka realized that he wasn't even affecting the boy, and that Naruto would quite happily sit there until hell froze over.

Deciding that the last thing a prankster wanted was to be ignored, Iruka turned to the rest of the class and started the final examinations. Most of his classmates shot him curious glances when they were called, yet none spoke to him. Inwardly, he was chortling with mirth. Outwardly, he pretended to ignore everything happening around him. This was _fun_, and he wasn't about to give up on the joke yet.

As he sat and waited, the computer-aspect knew that the tremendous amount of biological energy stored behind his navel, known as 'chakra', had been instrumental in repairing as much of the damaged sphere as could be recovered. The sensors were fine, as was the fusion reactor, plasma conduits, and half a dozen Borg regeneration alcoves. Unfortunately, weapons, navigation, propulsion, deflectors, and shields were damaged beyond salvation.

Through the extensive computer database, the Naruto collective knew that much of the technology and rare metals required for a complete rebuild were unavailable in the Elemental Nations. At least, not as far as the Naruto-aspect was able to ascertain. Sensors had equally been unable to find either ore or technology.

In other words, the collective knew, they were stuck.

Naruto erected himself when his name was called, and calmly progressed toward Mizuki, who was about to take his examination. He was fairly confident in his ability to pass, the assimilation had unlocked all of the knowledge that the Naruto-aspect had once been exposed to, including hand-signs, mechanical and biological theory, and so on. He knew the hand-signs, he knew the theory, he knew the jutsu. It should be fairly easy to pass the examination.

His first task was the bunshin. He made the signs, and pushed biological energy into the construct. The computer-aspect noted dispassionately how the energy flowed through the drone's body, and how it took physical shape.

Two dozen clones appeared, weak, white, sickly, and dispelling immediately. _Construct overload,_ the computer-aspect noted. _Adjust energy output. _"Fail," Mizuki reported.

His second task was the Henge. Naruto made the signs, and pushed ten percent of the energy he had used on the bunshin into it. He changed shape, turning into a very pale and wobbly looking Hokage. _Construct fail, decrease energy output further,_ the computer-aspect noted cooly. "Fail," Mizuki told him.

His final task was the substitution jutsu. Naruto made the signs, and the computer-aspect reported his shift in location, having successfully switched place with a nearby chair. "Pass," Mizuki noted on his clipboard. "I'm sorry, Naruto, you only passed one out of three. You failed. However, there is something else you can do to pass."

The computer-aspect queried the logic in attempting to pass as Ninja. They were Borg, passing as Ninja was no longer required. The Naruto-aspect overrode the computer-aspect, and listened to the teacher intently.

* * *

Naruto shimmered into existence in the middle of the forest, ready to begin the second stage of his mission. The transporters had been brought operational, and allowed him to bypass security. There were no shields present in this world that could stop him; Naruto could take what he wanted.

"How inefficient," he noted as he opened the Forbidden Scroll, and started reading. He was to learn one technique from it, then report to Mizuki. As he started speed-reading, he noted dispassionately how the computer-aspect was guiding his hands through the signs required for each technique, committing it both to eidetic memory and muscle memory. Why stop at one technique when one could learn them all?

It took Naruto forty-five minutes before he rolled up the scroll, and set out to find Mizuki.

"There you are," the teacher said, grinning savagely. "Give me the scroll, boy."

Naruto was about to hand over the artifact, when a scream stopped him. "Don't, Naruto! Mizuki is a traitor! He got you to steal the Forbidden Scroll!" Iruka shouted, dropping from the trees, approaching them both.

Naruto halted, stepped back. At the moment of his indecision, Mizuki threw a truly large shuriken at the boy. Reasonably sure that the bladed weapon would be unable to penetrate his Borg armor, Naruto did not move.

To his utmost surprise, Iruka jumped in between and took the weapon to his back. The computer-aspect logically noted the inefficiency and the illogical action taken by his teacher.

The Naruto-aspect was far from composed.

"Iruka-sensei," the boy whispered, staring at his teacher, his ocular implant scanning deep inside his teacher's body, noting the damage done to his teacher's back. Mizuki was ranting, Naruto ignored him, choosing instead to let the information of the rant file directly into eidetic memory for retrieval later. He'd listen to it when his teacher wasn't dying in his arms.

"This... is unacceptable," the boy whispered, brining his hands together in a series of signs he had just purloined from the forbidden scroll. "Kage Bunshin no Jutsu."

He _pushed_.

A thousand Narutos filled the clearing, the trees, the branches, and hid in the shadows of the forest. The collective expanded massively, a thousand Naruto-aspects overriding the cool logic of the computer-aspect. A thousand drones, a thousand minds linked together through Borg technology, in perfect synchronicity.

And when they spoke, they spoke with a thousand voices sounding as one.

The Borg were one of the most feared of all species in their home dimension, frightening in their logical intensity, and their dispassionate disregard for emotions of all kinds.

Mizuki was the first to learn the terror invoked by the Borg within the Elemental Nations.

"We are the Borg. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated."

Mizuki stared at the thousand Naruto clones when they calmly started to approach him. Overcoming his shock, he threw his weapons around, shuriken and kunai slicing through the air. "Naruto!" Ikrua muttered, trying to stand but failing miserably.

The bladed weapons bounced off Borg shields.

Both ninja stared. "Resistance is futile," the 1000 drones reported. "You will comply."

A dozen clones jumped the Chuunin teacher from behind, wrestling the man to the ground with inhuman strength, while One of Many, the original Naruto, approached. Assimilation tubules appeared from his gloved right hand, and injected their deadly payload into the former teacher's neck.

Mizuki started screaming. "You will be assimilated," One of Many noted. "Or not. Some do not survive the initial assimilation process, and I am very, very new at this."

The computer aspect of the collective noted that the defective assimilation nanoprobes seemed to have interesting properties on the human body as Mizuki screamed, slowly dissolving. The clones vanished when the man stopped screaming and trashing, and slowly dissolved into goop.

Naruto stepped back, approaching Iruka. "Naruto," the man whispered.

"We must transport to you a medical technician," Naruto said, grabbing Iruka's good shoulder with his right hand. His left reached over, tapping a key on his right glove.

They dissolved, only to reappear in the middle of the hospital's Emergency Room. Iruka faltered, staring at his student. "Naruto," he repeated.

"Affirmative."

"two things," the man said, handing over his forehead protector. "One, I'm graduating you. Two, please get the forbidden Scroll and report to the Hokage."

Naruto accepted the piece of armor. The computer-aspect clamly reported the weakness of the metal. Naruto tied it to his forehead nonetheless. "I will comply," he stated with cool efficiency. "You must heal."

Iruka's lips twitched. "I will comply," he replied while technicians were manhandling onto a gurney. Naruto nodded, and vanished when he tapped his glove again. It was a short transport to the forest to collect the scroll of forbidden seals, before transporting straight into the Hokage's office.

The Hokage of Konoha was old. He had seen his fair share of impossible things, but the sight of Naruto appearing in a beam of green lights was not one of them. Thankfully, his old age had given him a remarkable ability to ignore it when things startled him.

"Naruto."

"Old-man," Naruto said. It was said without the usual warmth, and the old man in question frowned.

"I have heard some fairly distressing things, Naruto," the Hokage said. "What happened?"

Naruto blinked. "Please elaborate."

The Hokage grinned. "Since when do you use the word 'elaborate?"

"Since this drone was assimilated by the Borg," Naruto answered. He studied the Hokage. "You are a superior biological specimen. Assimilation would be beneficial to us both."

"Thank you. I think. What does this 'assimilation' contain?" the man said, choosing to take Naruto's strange comment as a compliment.

"It is easier to experience as it is to explain," Naruto replied. "We are aware we can not assimilate you by force. Your compliance is required."

"Try," the man said with dry humor.

"Assimilation is to become one. Biological and technological advantages are shared with the collective. Their minds become one," Naruto explained. He pointed to his eye. "Implants enhance the biological body. Armor and shielding is provided to protect individual drones. Age is not a factor. Drones do not die of old age. Drones die in accidents or in combat, yet only when the damage to the drone in question is substantial. Most damage can be repaired."

The computer-aspect filed a note that the original drones could have been saved had Naruto's energy been available then.

The man frowned. "I don't understand."

"Assimilation is to become one, to share with the collective. Biological advantages are shared. Knowledge and technology is shared. The collective betters itself, nears perfection, when it expands."

The Hokage rubbed his chin, failing to comprehend just what was being offered. Had he been born in the Borg's native dimension, he probably would have done something different. "Very well. It sounds interesting."

Naruto approached. "We must inject you. The assimilation process will then commence. Your age will be reversed. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be add to our own."

"As long as it doesn't mean I have to dress in orange," the old man said.

"Color is irrelevant," Naruto stated. "Default armor color is black."

"I like black," the man said when Naruto stood right next to him. The boy leaned in, and the old man refused to flinch and the tubules pinched in his neck.

* * *

AN: I think I'll leave it there; I have a few other ideas... like Hinata's reaction to Naruto's question about assimilating her biological distinctiveness. Borg drones with the Professor's knowledge and skill are bad enough. Borg drones with the Professor's knowledge and skill while having the Byakugan is even worse. LOL

I'm well aware that default Borg behavior would be to assimilate all in sight. Since Naruto is basically in a collective of one with the computer, I'm having his personality override that drive and only assimilate this he cares about. Which, at the beginning of the naruto series, would be pretty much Old Man Hokage.

**Second note**: I'm sorry for the delay in writing fanfiction. I've been very busy working on my original novel, which had recently been published; the links are present in my profile. It's a fantasy story revolving around a young girl who learns she has magic, only to find out that her magic is crippled.


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